The Lies that Blind
by Donna
Summary: My thoughts on what happened to the little girl who gave Jarod his first kiss...
1. Default Chapter Title

"The Pretender" doesn't belong to me, nor do any of the characters. This story does, though. My mind took a couple of little remarks from a couple of different episodes and created this. I don't think that Mr. Parker is completely heartless. He does have a heart, it is just, like the Grinch's, two sizes two small. Anyway, this is my idea on what happened to the little girl that gave Jarod his first kiss. 

The Lies that Blind By Donna 1998 

"You're a liar, Jarod. Always have been." "I love you, Parker. I'll always be here for you." 

"Liar." The words echoed through her mind. Some days, she could push the memories to the back of her mind for hours. 

Not today, though. 

Today, it had been the first thought on her mind when she woke up. August 21. 

She had been dreading it for weeks, knowing that it would come anyway, as it did every year. 

WINTER, 1979 

Winter break. She was going home. She could hardly wait to see him again. It had been far too long. She knew that her father didn't want her visiting Jarod, but this time she would go anyway. She was an adult now, and was capable of making decisions on her own. She didn't need her father's approval. Besides, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. 

Jarod had been the closest thing to a friend she had as a child. In those days, she would sneak down to visit him a couple of times a week. He was always so happy to see her, certainly happier than her father was to have her around. For that matter, happier than any one else at The Centre was about her presence there. She loved the way he lit up when he first saw her and she loved the way it made her feel. 

When she told him that her father was sending her away to school, his face had fallen. She had assured him that she would be home to visit often and would come to see him every opportunity, but she had failed to do so. Her father's close supervision and her own fear of him had kept her from their secret meeting place. She was a little embarrassed at how long it had been since she had been to visit Jarod. This time, though, she would swallow her fear. Hopefully, she could get Sidney to tell him that she was back and they could resume their friendship. Sometimes they talked, but most often, they just sat and enjoyed being together without any pressure to perform. 

Her arrival home was pretty much what she expected. Her father had sent a car to the airport to take her home. When he finally arrived at the house late that night, he had given her a perfunctory kiss and a gruff "Good to have you home, Angel," before retiring to his study. The next morning she was waiting in the kitchen when he came down for breakfast. 

"What's got you up so early this morning? I figured you would want to enjoy your vacation, sleep late and all that." 

She took a deep breath. 

"Actually, Daddy, I was hoping I could go to The Centre with you. There are some people there I'd really like to say hello to. I also thought that maybe there would be some sort of part time job there that I could do while I'm on break. I've been thinking that I might like to work there after I graduate and this would give me an opportunity to test the waters." She waited for his response. 

After a moment, he beamed back at her. "That's a wonderful idea, Sweetheart. It's been my hope that you might someday join us there, but I didn't want to push." He gave her a quick hug. "I'm sure we'll find the perfect place for you. After all, you're a Parker. You'll probably be running the place someday." 

Her first day there was a whirlwind of activity, running errands for her father and reacquainting herself with the maze of Centre hallways and sublevels. It was late in the day when she finally made her way down to Sidney's office. She wasn't surprised to find him there, bent over some book or file or something. "Hey, Doc, don't you have a home somewhere?" 

Startled, he looked up to find her grinning at him. He responded with a bright smile. 

"Miss Parker! It's so good to see you." 

He rose and met her in the middle of the room for a warm hug. 

"Your father didn't mention that you were coming home. It's been much too long since you've come to visit us," he said, in mock reproval. 

"I know, and I'm sorry, Sidney. It seems like Daddy has always made such big plans for my breaks that I haven't really been home in a long time. He wanted to send me to Madrid for this one, but I told him that I would rather spend some time with him." 

"He couldn't very well turn that down, could he?" Sidney answered. 

She looked over to where he had resumed his seat. 

"Actually, he did. He reminded me that most people don't have the kind of opportunities he is able to give me and that I was being ungrateful to not appreciate them. I just knew I would be spending Christmas in Spain all by myself. I was shocked when he called and said that he had thought it over and decided that it would be good for me to spend this break here in Delaware. He's even letting me work for him. It will probably be mostly running errands and that kind of stuff, but at least I'll get to see him." 

As she talked, she walked around the office, picking up things, looking at them and putting them back. Sidney watched, an amused look on his face. When she noticed, she stopped her pacing and glared at him. 

"What?" 

"As happy as I am to see you, I seriously doubt that you came down here just to brighten the office of a tired old man," he chuckled. 

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave him a perplexed look. 

"Why else would I come down here except to see you, Sidney?" 

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps you were wondering about the latest developments in psychological analysis." 

"Hardly!" 

"Or you simply got lost on your way somewhere else. These corridors can be a bit confusing." 

"Sidney, I spent more time here as a child than I did at home. I could probably still find my way around with my eyes closed." 

"Or perhaps," he added with a gentle smile, "you wanted to ask about Jarod." 

She smiled back weakly. "Am I really that transparent?" 

"Only to someone who has known you your whole life." 

She sat down on the edge of the desk. 

"So...how is he? Does he ever ask about me?" 

Sidney thought a moment. 

"He hasn't asked, but I know he has missed you. Do you think it would be alright with your father for you to visit him while you're here?" 

She didn't notice that Sidney had skirted the question of how he was. 

"I hope so. Maybe you could speak to him about it. Tell him that it would be good for Jarod to see me again, that it would help him to...to work better...to do whatever it is that he does around here..." 

She looked at him hopefully. 

Sidney didn't want to crush her hopes. 

"I can try," he assured her. 

"Thank you so much!" She rushed around the desk to hug him. "And could you please tell Jarod that I'm here and that I hope to visit him soon." 

"Of course," he agreed. 

She smiled one of those brilliant smiles. 

"You are wonderful, Syd. I'd better get back to work before Daddy sends out a search party." 

She left the room with a spring in her step and a smile on her face. 

"I certainly hope Mr. Parker knows what he's doing," Sydney thought to himself. 

Naturally, her father had refused her request to visit Jarod. 

"It will just distract him from what he needs to be doing. And you from what you need to be doing. You really need to concentrate on your responsibilities here if you want to make a good impression. Being my daughter can help open doors, but you have to prove that you're capable of soaring through them, Angel. I won't be around forever and I want you to be able to look out for yourself when I can't. I want the Parker name to mean 'power' for years to come." 

"Well," she reminded herself, "you didn't think it would be easy." 

She had made up her mind that she would see him and no one and nothing was going to stop her. She had been sneaking through the hallways at The Centre for years to visit him and didn't see any reason to stop now. She only hoped that Sidney had passed along her message and that Jarod remembered their secret meeting place. "Right! Like Jarod could ever forget anything!" 

She smiled to herself as she slipped silently through the darkened corridors. Her heart was racing. She wasn't sure whether she was more anxious about seeing Jarod or about defying her father, but she strongly suspected it was a little of both. She looked around carefully as she climbed into the air vent that led to their secret spot. Angelo had showed it to them years ago, an area in the ductwork that widened out into the size of a small room. A careful search had revealed no cameras or microphones, so they had decided to use it as a meeting place. She had sneaked pillows and blankets down there and the friends had created their own secret little nest. When she arrived, she was surprised to see that everything was just as they had left it. "So, is everything like you remember it?" a deep voice interrupted her thoughts. 

She turned quickly. 

It was him. 

Her breath caught in her throat. He was taller and more muscular and much more handsome, but it was definitely him. 

She felt a smile breaking across her face. 

"Everything but you." 

In an instant, she was in his arms being crushed in his embrace. She hugged back with equal vigor. Stepping back, he looked at her...at the beautiful young woman that she had become. "You've changed quite a bit yourself, Parker. It's been too long." 

Her face fell. "I know, Jarod. I'm sorry." 

He reached out and lifted her chin so he could meet her eyes again. "Hey, it's okay. You're here now. I've missed you." 

Her smile returned. 

"I've missed you, too, Jarod. 

As the two began to catch up, they had no idea that the ever-present electronic eyes and ears of The Centre had invaded their once safe haven. 

Two men stood watching. 

"Do you really think this will work?" 

"Of course it will work. They're teenagers. All we have to do is to allow nature to take its course." 

The two met again the next night. Snuggling close together to whisper back and forth, both realized the major changes that had taken place in their bodies. When Parker caught Jarod staring at her breasts, she asked, with only a slight tremor in her voice, "Would you like to touch them?" 

He quickly looked up, his eyes wide. 

She faced him, determined to do this no matter how embarrassed she was. "Because I'd really like for you to." 

He reached out hesitantly, stopping inches from her and met her eyes again. 

"Are you sure?" 

In answer, she pulled her shirt over her head. She smiled when she saw his eyes widen at the sight of her bra. She took his hand and placed it lightly on the pale pink lace. He moved his other hand to her other breast, marveling at how soft and warm they felt. He looked back at her face and smiled. She chewed her lip. "I know they're not very big..." 

"They're beautiful, just like you," he reassured her. 

Her face lit up and she leaned forward and kissed him tentatively on the lips. His response was equally hesitant. They separated, each wondering about the feelings coursing through them at that moment. As if reaching a decision, she reached back and unclasped her bra, allowing it to fall between them. While he stared, she reached over and pulled at his t-shirt. Almost mechanically he removed it, his eyes never leaving her. She ran her hands over his bare chest as he gently began caressing her breasts again. 

She smiled at him and lay down on a blanket, holding her hand out to him in invitation. "Please, Jarod..." 

"Are you sure?" 

She nodded. "I want to make love with you, Jarod." 

"I've never..." 

"Me either. A couple of boys at school have tried to get me in bed, but I've always wanted you to be the first." 

He gently caressed her face. "I know that it can be...painful...for a woman, the first time..." 

She was touched by his thoughtfulness and reached up to take his hand. 

"I know. Some of my friends have told me. That's why I want it to be you. I know that you'll be gentle, that you would never intentionally hurt me." 

He leaned down to look her in the eye. 

"I love you, Parker, and I would rather die than hurt you. You believe that, don't you?" 

She nodded, meeting his gaze. 

"I know that. And I love you, always and only." 

With that reassurance, his lips met hers and the two gave in to the passion within. The watchers were pleased. 

Over the next two weeks, Jarod and Parker met whenever both could steal away from their various duties. They talked and laughed and made love, reveling in the time they had. 

All too soon, though, it had to come to an end. "I have to go back to school tomorrow," she told him, hating to break the warm mood. 

"I know." 

She raised her head to look at him. 

"Maybe I could just tell Daddy that I don't want to go, that I want to stay here and work at the Centre." 

He brushed the hair back from her face. 

"I'm afraid that might make his suspicious. Besides, I don't plan to stay here very much longer." 

A surprised look crossed her face. "They're going to let you leave?" 

"They're not 'letting' me do anything, but I'm going to do it anyway," he told her with a wry grin. 

"You're going to escape?" she asked in a soft whisper. "How?" 

"I don't have all the details worked out yet, but it won't be long." 

"Is there anything I can do to help?" 

"No, I think it's better that you don't get involved." 

"I love you, Jarod, that makes me involved," she reminded him, irritation plain in her voice. 

He hastened to reassure her. "I know, Parker. I love you, too. It's just that I really don't know how I'm going to do it, so I don't know how you could help." 

Angrily, she got up and started dressing. Jarod watched her in confusion. 

"What's wrong?" he finally ventured to ask. 

She threw him a venomous look. "You're leaving." 

"Yes..." 

Comprehension suddenly dawned. 

"I'm leaving the Centre, not you." 

He took her shoulders, forcing her to face him. "When I leave here, the first thing I'm going to do is to find you." 

She looked into his eyes, hardly daring to hope. 

"I want you with me...if you want to be with me. When I leave, I have no doubt the Centre will do whatever they can to find me and bring me back. We'll be on the run constantly, but if you're willing to live like that, I'll do everything in my power to protect you, Parker." 

He was so sincere, so intense, she knew he was telling her the truth. She threw her arms around him and answered, "As long as we're together, we can manage anything. Just don't ever leave me." 

"I love you, Parker. I'll always be here for you." 

In another room two men stood watching the touching scene. 

"Do you think the plan was successful?" 

"We'll know soon enough. Is everything ready?" 

"As you directed, sir. Your daughter returns to school tomorrow morning and Sidney will be on another early morning flight to a conference in Brazil. He'll be gone for a whole week. The other doctors will start to work on Jarod immediately." 

Mr. Parker looked at him intently. 

"And they are absolutely certain that they can wipe Jarod's memory of this whole affair with my daughter?" 

"Yes, sir. Through a combination of drugs and hypnosis, those memories, along with his escape plans, will cease to exist." 

"And they are certain that there will be no effect on Jarod's abilities?" 

"None whatsoever." 

The speaker paused to look at the two teens on the video screen. 

"What about your daughter? Won't she be hurt by this?" 

"I'll take care of my daughter. I always take care of my family." 

SPRING, 1980 

When spring break arrived in March, she insisted on spending it in Delaware again. Her father gave no argument, since this fit very well into his plan. He noticed that she looked pale and thin, as though she had been ill. He hoped that this was a good sign. Again, she offered to work for him at the Centre and again, he seemed pleased to accept. At the first opportunity, she headed for Sidney's office to ask him about Jarod. When Jarod had not shown up to collect her, she feared that he had taken ill or something terrible had happened to him. She managed to ask her father about him during a phone conversation and he had assured her that Jarod was fine; in fact, he seemed happier than ever and had just agreed to stay on at the Centre. 

"He's just trying to mislead them," she tried to convince herself. She didn't quite believe herself. 

It didn't help when one of her friends got dumped by her boyfriend. 'He got what he wanted from me and then left. Men are only interested in one thing.' 

"Jarod's not like that. He really loves me." 

When she arrived at Sidney's office, she was surprised to find Jarod himself there. He was pacing the room, deep in thought. Sidney had just given him a particularly complex sim to run and he was involved in sorting through the facts. Mr. Parker was counting on Jarod's habit of completely closing off reality when involved in the most confusing of simulations. 

Her soft greeting broke his concentration at a very important juncture. Without realizing what he was doing, he snapped at her. 

"What do you want?" 

She was taken aback. "I'm sorry. I'm home on break and just wanted to see how you were doing." 

"I'm doing fine. I'm also very busy at the moment and really don't have time to talk right now, so if you'll excuse me?" 

She was devastated. "Of course...I'm sorry..." 

She turned and fled from his presence, fighting back tears. Finally, she found a deserted stairwell where she sat down and cried her heart out. When she was finished, she went to the nearest bathroom to repair the damage and then headed for her father's office. She took a deep breath, held her head high, and went in to break the news to him. 

"I'm not going back to school, Daddy. I'm pregnant." 

She was so wrapped up in her own feelings that she didn't notice the glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. He quickly covered it and stepped into the role of concerned parent. "Are you sure?" 

She nodded miserably. "What about the father?" 

She couldn't tell her father the whole truth. She was in enough trouble without admitting that she had defied him to visit Jarod. 

"Just a guy I met. We're not together anymore. In fact, he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore." 

Even though she didn't want her father to see how hurt she was, she couldn't stop the tear that rolled down her face. "I'm sorry, Angel. I could lecture you about being careful, but I suppose it's a little late for that. I'm sorry this boy hurt you, but that happens when you let people get too close." 

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. 

"Now, the question is what are we going to do about it? Do you want to get rid of it?" 

The question was like a slap in the face. In spite of the way he had treated her, she still loved Jarod and the thought of killing his child had never entered her mind. "No, Daddy, I couldn't do that. I don't know what I'm going to do, but not that." 

He breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure what he would do if she had wanted an abortion. It would mess up everything. "Why don't we start by getting one of the doctors to take a look at you, make sure everything's alright. If it is, we can discuss your options." He walked over to her and held out his hand to help her up. "Whatever you decide, I'll support you." 

She had never loved her father more than she did at that moment. 

The doctor's news wasn't good. 

Yes, she was about three months pregnant, but there were complications. She was underweight, probably due to the terrible nausea she had been experiencing and her blood pressure was a little too high. She was in danger of a miscarriage. To decrease the chances of that happening, he wanted to put her to bed for the remainder of the pregnancy. Mr. Parker watched his daughter's face, paying little attention to the doctor. After all, he had written the script. She looked frightened and a little overwhelmed by it all. She turned to him. "What do you think, Daddy?" 

He looked back at her. "We would have to hire a nurse to take care of you. I spend so much time here, and I really couldn't leave you at home alone." 

On cue, the doctor piped up. "Miss Parker could always stay here. We have the facilities to take proper care of her and there would be round the clock medical assistance available." 

Mr. Parker seemed to consider the suggestion. He looked to see how she was reacting. 

"It would also allow me to come down and visit you during the day, spend some time with my favorite girl. What do you think, Angel?" His last remark had the desired effect. She smiled at him. "Well, if you think it would be best..." 

"Then that's settled." He got up. "We'll go back to the house and get whatever you might need while the doctor here gets your room ready." 

As she headed towards the elevator, her father stopped to speak to the doctor. 

"Everything is ready?" 

"Yes, Mr. Parker. We have a room set up for her on SL-27 where we can monitor every moment of the pregnancy. This child will start off with the very best." 

"Considering what it will do for us, that's the least we can do." 

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Miss Parker found herself growing more and more restless. She felt fine and was sick and tired of being confined to her bed, but the doctors told her that the baby was still in danger. Her diet was strictly monitored, as were her daily exercise periods at the gym down the hall. 

She was bored to tears. 

She read more than she had read in years and worked on the computer some, but every day seemed just a little bit longer than the day before. The only consolation was that she did get to see more of her father. He often came down to share meals with her or bring her some new reading material. He spoke of how proud he would be to see her make her mark at the Centre. 

Actually, he wasn't the only consolation. She also had her baby girl. A sonogram had revealed the baby's sex and she had immediately decided to name it after her mother. When she got too bored for other things, she would sit a dream about her life with Catherine. She imagined all the things they would do together and all the places they would go. Her baby's well being was the one thing that got her through the long days of waiting. 

Her exam that morning had gone well. The doctor had told her that she and the baby were doing fine, and that Catherine should be making her debut in a few more weeks. It was almost lunchtime and Daddy would be arriving any moment now to eat with her. She got out of bed and put on her robe, planning to meet him at the elevator. When she reached the door to her room, she could hear voices outside. It was her father and the doctor, and they were talking about her. 

She put her ear to the door to listen. "Everything is right on schedule, Mr. Parker. The baby is well developed and the amniocentesis yielded enough genetic material to confirm that she does have the pretender blood type, just like Jarod and your daughter." 

"Perfect," Mr. Parker responded. "A pretender that we can shape from birth." 

"What about your daughter, sir? Do you think she's any more likely to surrender her child than her mother was?" 

"You leave my daughter to me. She's much too young to raise a child anyway. It won't be easy on her, but it's for the best. It will make her stronger in the long run." 

She couldn't believe what she was hearing and jerked the door open to confront him. 

"You knew all along! You knew about me and Jarod!" 

"Now, sweetheart, calm down." 

"Calm down?! You've been lying to me!" 

"You're the one that lied. You neglected to mention that you had been sneaking around with Jarod and that he was the father of your baby." 

"But that's alright, because you already knew, didn't you? In fact, you probably arranged the whole thing!" 

Mr. Parker at least had the grace to look a little uncomfortable. 

"Think of the contribution you'll be making to the Centre, Angel. The Centre doesn't forget those that are loyal to it. Jarod knows that." 

She felt like she had been slugged in the stomach. "Jarod? You mean...Jarod was a part of this? He intentionally got me pregnant?" 

Her father reached out to her. 

She slapped him away angrily. "You bastard! How could you do this to me? I hate you!" She started pummeling him with her fists. One of the orderlies that the doctor had summoned reached out to restrain her. 

"Be careful," the doctor warned him, "We don't want to injure the baby." 

She pulled away and stood staring at them all. 

"That's right. You wouldn't want to hurt your new little moneymaker. That's all this is to you, isn't it?" she asked her father. 

"Of course not..." 

"Of course it is! Well, you're not going to get her! I would rather die than let you have her!" 

She turned and ran, not really knowing where she was going, just knowing that she had to get away from those monsters. She ran into one of the labs. No one was there, but experiments bubbled and boiled on various tables throughout the room. The orderlies and her father were right behind her. She tried to dodge around them, but in her condition, she was no match for the bigger, stronger men. 

As the carried her gently from the room, no one noticed the burner that had been knocked off the table during her flight. No one noticed the small pile of papers that started to smolder and burn. 

She was taken back to her room and strapped to her bed. "We have to," the doctor assured her father when he questioned the straps. "It is possible that she would try to deliberately harm the baby to keep it from us." 

He nodded, pain evident on his face. "But what are we going to do now? We can't keep her like this for the next month." 

"No," the doctor agreed. "The stress and anger would certainly have an adverse effect. And we can't sedate her either. Any drugs used would also affect the child. I think the best option is to induce labor now. The baby is developed enough to survive outside of the womb and the risks would be minimal." 

"Alright. Then that's what we'll do." 

She continued to struggle. "How can you do this to me, Daddy? I'll never forgive you!" 

He smiled sadly. "You won't even remember this, Angel." 

A gurney was brought in and she was moved to another room where she was strapped to a birthing table and administered labor-inducing drugs. As her labor progressed, she screamed and cursed at her father, tears coursing down her face as she struggled to stop the contractions with will power alone. "Mr. Parker, you really don't have to stay," the doctor told him. "I know. But I think I should be here with her." 

"She's in good hands and, as you said, she won't even remember being here, much less that you were here with her." 

"She won't remember, but I will. In spite of what you may think, I really don't like doing this to her. This way, I can at least tell myself that I was here for her." 

"As you wish, sir." 

She was fully dilated and about to give birth when there was a loud explosion and the alarms began shrieking. The door burst open and an orderly rushed in. 

"There's a fire! We have to evacuate this level immediately!" 

Mr. Parker grabbed him. "How did this happen? Where is it? Won't the sprinklers and the fire doors contain it?" 

"No, sir, it apparently started in Dr. Raines' lab. Somehow, it spread through the ventilation shafts without triggering the alarms. We don't really know the extent of it, but we know it's a big one." 

"Well, you'd better stop it," the doctor told him. "Miss Parker cannot be moved at this point without extreme risk of spinal damage to the baby." 

"If we stay here, we risk all being killed by fire!" Mr. Parker reminded him. A nurse interrupted. "We could perform an emergency C- section and at least get the baby to a safe location." 

They could hear additional explosions outside the room, accompanied by the screams of those caught in them. 

"What about my daughter?" Mr. Parker asked. The doctor looked up at him. "There probably would not be enough time close and move her. She would most likely bleed to death." 

His eyes met her angry ones. "Fine! Let me die! Bleed to death or die in the fire, it really doesn't matter! You've already torn my heart out!" she spat at him. 

He came to a decision. "No, I won't sacrifice her. Be as careful as possible, but get her out of here now," he told the orderlies standing nearby. 

"You would risk this baby, this pretender, for your daughter?" the doctor asked. 

"NOW!" he roared. 

"The Tower will be very angry if this child is damaged by your sudden paternal leanings," the doctor informed him. 

"I will answer to The Tower. Right now you have to answer to me, and if you don't get her out of here, I swear you will wish you were only answering to The Tower!" 

The doctor stared at him a moment longer then nodded to the orderlies. "You heard Mr. Parker. Let's get her moved upstairs, quickly and with as little jolting as possible." 

Sometime later, Mr. Parker entered the room where his daughter lay sleeping. 

"How is she doing?" he asked the doctor. 

"We have her stabilized now and sedated her. What happened on SL-27?" 

"The whole level was destroyed. I doubt we can salvage any of the equipment or materials down there. Fifteen people were killed and numerous others injured. Dr. Raines is one of those in bad shape." 

The doctor nodded. "We were lucky that anyone escaped. What do you want to do now? We can't keep her sedated forever." 

Her father walked over and looked down at her, brushing a lock of hair back from her face. 

"The doctors will be here shortly to take care of her. We'll have to wipe her memory of the last few months." 

"She won't even remember the pregnancy?" 

"No, we won't wipe that out. I want her to remember the pain that Jarod caused her, how he wasn't there for her when she needed him. We'll just wipe the time that she's been here in the Centre medical facility." 

"That's a big block of time. What do you intend to replace it with?" 

"Europe. I've been promising her for years that we would spend a summer in Europe together. This seems like a good time to have done it. The travel department is working now to plan out what we did. They'll take care of the passports, ticket stubs, souvenirs, and momentos that we collected. She'll have wonderful memories of a vacation with her father." 

She slowly struggled to open her eyes. She felt tired, confused. She was in bed, but it wasn't her bed. She could feel someone holding her hand. Her eyelids finally lifted. 

"Daddy." 

He smiled at her. "Welcome back, Angel. You had us pretty worried for a while there." 

She didn't understand. "What happened? Where am I?" 

He looked concerned. "What's the last thing you remember?" 

She thought a moment. "Rome. We had tickets to the opera, but you said that maybe we should skip it, that I looked tired." 

She looked around. "But this isn't our hotel. This is the medical facility at The Centre, isn't it?" 

"Yes, sweetheart. You became very ill, developed a very high fever quite suddenly. I chartered a jet to bring us back here as quickly as possible." 

She frowned suddenly, her hand moving to her abdomen. She looked down, then up at her father, a panicked expression on her face. 

"My baby! What happened to my baby?" 

Mr. Parker took her hand again. "I'm sorry, Princess. The fever caused you to go into premature labor. The infection that had made you so ill had already passed on to her. The doctors did the best they could, but she was just too small and weak to fight it off. I'm so sorry. I never should have taken you to Europe. I thought the trip would take your mind off the pain this boy caused you, but maybe if you had been here, if we could have gotten you medical treatment faster, maybe Catherine would still be here with us." 

Her eyes filled with tears. "Where is she now?" 

"You've been in a coma for several days. I went ahead and buried her next to your mother. That way, her grandmother can take care of her." 

He took her in his arms as she began to sob. "I'm here for you, Angel." 

AUGUST 21, 1998 

A knock on the door brought her back to the present. She smiled slightly as the door opened and her father poked his head in. 

"It's about dinner time, Angel. I was planning on trying out that new seafood place in town. Would you care to join me?" 

It was almost funny. Of all the birthdays, special occasions, and anniversary dates her father seemed to forget, he never forgot this one. Neither one of them ever mentioned the reason, but he had never failed to take her out for dinner on this date. "Sure. Nothing going on here but more loose ends. Unfortunately, they'll still be here in the morning." She grabbed her purse, turned out the lights, and joined him. The meal was excellent and the conversation light. They discussed a play they had both seen and made tentative plans to visit an upcoming art show. No mention was made of The Centre or of the little girl who would have been 18 years old today. In the parking lot, he walked her to her car and gave her a hug and a peck on the cheek before sending her on her way. 

"Get a good night's rest. Tomorrow will be better." 

Home again, she walked into her expensively decorated bedroom, slipped on her silk pajamas, sat down on an elegant stool in front of a designer vanity, picked up the silver brush and began brushing her thick chestnut hair. Miles away in a small room with simple wooden furniture, another young woman sat brushing her hair. Her pajamas were plain white cotton and her brush was a simple plastic one, but the thick chestnut hair was almost identical, as were the pale blue green eyes looking in the mirror. She had no idea that today was a special day for her. She had spent it like she spent every other day she could remember, running simulations for The Centre. She wondered, as she often did, what was outside The Centre walls, and if there was someone out there looking for her. She put down her brush and climbed into bed. 

Mr. Parker had returned to his office. 

He hadn't turned on the lights, the video monitor gave off plenty of light. He sat in his chair, drink in hand, watching as the girl pulled up the sheet and turned out her bedside lamp. He reached out and touched the screen in front of him. "Happy birthday, Catherine. Happy birthday." 

The end? 


	2. Default Chapter Title

The story is mine, the Pretender and its characters aren't. This is a follow up to my previous story, "The Lies that Blind". This one won't make as much sense if you haven't read that one. Please, let me know what you think. 

The Lies that Blind II: Loose Threads By Donna 1998 

She woke suddenly, trying to grasp the dream before it fled. 

Once again, she failed. Somehow, she knew it was the same dream that had been plaguing her for weeks, something important that she couldn't quite figure out. She knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. She never could after the dream. Try as she might not to think about it, her subconscious simply wouldn't let the matter rest. At time like this, she really regretted giving up smoking. 

At the Centre that day, everyone stayed out of her way, as usual. Normally, that was the way she liked it, but today it only served to make her angrier. Sometimes, she just needed to really tear into someone and found it annoying that no one would do anything to allow her to blow off steam...not that she really needed a reason...all she needed was a target. 

On cue, there was a timid knock at her door. 

"Um...Miss Parker?" Broots called, more than half hoping there would be no answer. 

Luck wasn't on his side that day. 

Even her usual "What?" seemed laced with more than its normal venom. 

Broots looked anxiously around the corridor, hoping someone would save him. 

Heading towards his own office, Sidney noticed Broots' panicked expression and decided to have pity on the poor tech. He changed direction and strolled over to the man's side. 

"Care for a little company?" he asked the other man. 

Broots sighed with relief. He quickly drew his breath in again when the door in front of him opened with a jerk. 

Miss Parker stood there, her face a mask of impatient anger. 

"Did you have something to tell me or were you just testing out the acoustics?" 

Broots looked over to Sidney, who smiled encouragement at the younger man. She turned and strode back into her office, leaving the two men to follow. 

Sidney closed the door and took up a position leaning against the wall as Parker resumed her seat and Broots fumbled with the file folders under his arm. "Um...well...actually..." 

'Dear God please don't let me drop anything.' 

God wasn't listening to Broots at that moment, and papers slid from the file folder scattering every which way. Broots dropped to the floor to scramble after them, trying to get everything back in its proper order. 

"Well, you know...a few months back..." 

Okay, they weren't too awfully messed up. 

"You remember those accounts...the ones that Jarod kept borrowing from..." 

Oops, better turn that one right side up. 

"Well, I set up a program..." 

Surely there was more to it than this... 

"A kind of a watchdog type thing..." 

Why hadn't he bothered to number the pages? 

"Not on those accounts, because we secured them..." 

Oh, there's another page...I think that's the last one. 

As he reached for it, a foot came down on top of his hand...a foot encased in a black leather boot with a spiked heel...a boot that led up to a very nice leg... 

He gulped as she squatted down to look him in the eyes. 

"The point, Broots; Today would be good." 

"Oh...somebody tripped it." 

"Jarod?" she asked hopefully. 

"Well, actually...no...I mean, I don't think so..." 

She stood and returned to her desk. 

"If it wasn't Jarod, why did you think it would be of any interest to me if someone is trying to embezzle Centre funds?" 

"Well, because..." 

He finally got his papers all together and stood to face her. Sidney interrupted. "Why don't you think it was Jarod?" 

Broots turned to face him, relieved to be looking at anything other than those piercing blue eyes across the desk. 

"Well, you see, that's the interesting thing. At first glance, I thought it might be Jarod's work. After all, it's nothing that he hasn't done before. But when I really started looking, I realized it couldn't be him." 

He looked around expectantly but no one said anything. 

"It was just a little bit too sloppy. Jarod is always very precise, very neat, and leaves so little trail that most people wouldn't have a chance of following it...unless he leaves a really broad one that leads all over everywhere." 

Sidney nodded in agreement. 

"This trail was actually pretty easy to follow and very short, as if someone was meant to follow it...at least the first part..." 

"Broots," Parker interrupted, "You were going to tell me why this would be of the slightest interest to me." 

Broots took a deep breath and blurted it out. 

"Because it led directly to Mr. Parker's private accounts." 

She looked up at him quickly. 

"You're telling me that my father is embezzling money from Centre accounts?" 

"Oh, no," he hastened to reassure her. "At least, I don't think so. But someone wants to make someone believe that he is." 

"As much money as the Centre has already lost to Jarod, they would deal quite harshly with embezzlers," Sidney commented. 

"Who would want to do that to my father?" Miss Parker asked, coming around the desk to stand in front of the heavily perspiring Broots. "Did you find out who did it?" 

"Actually," Broots swallowed hard, "It was your brother." 

"Lyle?" 

He nodded. 

"Why would he want to turn the Centre against his own father? Since he turned up, he's been the golden child who could do no wrong!" 

Broots shrugged. 

"Maybe he planned to be the hero; show your father what 'someone' is trying to do to him and straighten it out before it was discovered." 

Over against the wall, Sidney grunted quietly. 

Miss Parker turned to face him. 

"Out with it, Syd!" 

"What?" 

"Your shrink brain obviously has an opinion on this. I want to hear it." 

"I was thinking that perhaps Mr. Lyle has unresolved abandonment issues." 

"In English?" 

"He hasn't forgiven your father for abandoning him as an infant." 

"Sidney, my parents were told that he was dead," she reminded him, speaking as one would speak to a slightly dense child. "What more did he expect them to do?" 

Sidney shrugged heavily. "Perhaps he felt that they should have investigated the matter, made certain that he was rather than simply accepting the Centre's word." 

Miss Parker froze, a warning bell starting to ring in her head. 

Sidney continued. "Wouldn't you have asked questions?" 

The bells became louder. 

"Of course she would," Broots added, turning to face Sidney. "When they told us that you were missing after the explosion, she refused to just accept that; she insisted on going looking for you, dragging me into off-limits areas. Not that you weren't worth it," the tech hastened to assure him. 

The clanging in her head drowned out their voices. Of course she knew better than to just accept anything the Centre told her... 

Now, she knew. 

She had believed them before. 

When they told her that her mother had committed suicide. 

But they lied about that. 

She had believed them...had believed her father... 

They told her...he told her... 

'I'm sorry, she was just too small and weak to fight it off...' 

'I'm sorry...' 

Surely he wouldn't lie to her about that... 

About her child, his grandchild... 

WHY would he lie to her? 

It's not like he knew about Jarod. 

Did he? 

"Uhm...Miss Parker?" 

Broots' voice drew her back to the present. She noticed the two men looking at her, concern evident on their faces. 

"What?" she snapped. 

"What do you want me to do? I mean, about your father...and everything?" the tech asked nervously. 

"Fix it!" 

"Fix it? How?" 

"I don't know how, you moron. If I did, I wouldn't need you now, would I?" 

He backed away from her anger. "I mean, what do you want me to do?" 

She sighed deeply and focused on him. "Transfer the money from my father's account back to the Centre accounts where it came from...or even better, transfer it into Lyle's account...then erase the evidence. Now, can you remember that or do you need me to write it down for you?" 

He swallowed hard. "Into Lyle's accounts? If he finds out..." 

"Then you'd better make sure he doesn't find out." She turned and walked back to her desk. When she had resumed her seat, she looked up at him, still standing frozen in the middle of the floor. 

"Now, Broots." 

Realizing he had been dismissed, he set a new speed record getting out of her presence and back into the safe familiarity of his own station. 

Sidney watched as Miss Parker sank back in her chair and closed her eyes. He realized that she had forgotten his presence and took advantage of the opportunity to study her. At moments like this, he could see so much of the little girl he had once known. He had seen her change so much. He knew that her mother's death had changed her from a carefree, bubbly little girl into a sad, withdrawn child. He had done what he could for her and felt rewarded to see her grow into a beautiful, sweet young woman. He remembered her visits to his office, how her rare smiles would light up the room, how she would shyly work around to nonchalantly asking about Jarod. 

He didn't know what had caused the next change. He only knew that somewhere in the early 80's, the sweet, hurting young woman had been replaced by a hard, driven woman who hid her pain behind a thick wall of anger and sarcasm. Her smiles were still beautiful, but they were far more rare. 

Unaware of his scrutiny, Miss Parker's thoughts were racing. 

Raines had told her parents that their child had died. Instead, he had been spirited away to be trained for use by the Centre. Her father had told her that her child had died. Was it possible that the Centre had also taken her? Could her daughter be somewhere in the bowels of the Centre sublevels at this very moment? How could she learn the truth? A small sound reminded her of Sidney's presence. Her eyes snapped open, a sharp remark on the tip of her tongue. She looked over to see him easing the door open. He caught her glance, smiled and nodded slightly as he slipped out and clicked the door closed behind him. 'Just a reminder…I'm here if you need me.' 

The words weren't spoken, but she knew his thoughts, as he so often seemed to know hers. Why did this man seem so much more concerned than her own father did? 

She straightened in her seat and shook her head. She was at work right now. It wasn't the time to be thinking about Catherine or Sidney. She had to focus on the man who tied them all together, on Jarod, and on how to return him to the Centre. 

She turned on her computer and started once more to search her files on him, seeking something that would help her bring him back, something that would help her free herself. 

That night at home, there was nothing to distract her and the thoughts she had banished earlier returned in full force. 

Knowing that she couldn't fight them, she relaxed and allowed them to wash over her. She took a deep breath and focused on organizing the chaotic thoughts filling her mind. 

The first question: had anyone known about her affair with Jarod? 

At the time, they had thought themselves very clever, they thought they were keeping a secret. In the years since, she had learned that very little went on at the Centre that was a secret from everyone. She herself knew quite a number of things that were supposed to be secrets. In fact, she had a hidden cache of insurance: tapes, photos, and documents that could be used if necessary to protect herself or to ensure cooperation from numerous Centre employees. Supposing someone knew, a little simple arithmetic would have sufficed to figure out that Jarod was responsible for her pregnancy. 

Except that the pregnancy had been a secret also, from everyone but her father. Had her father known about Jarod? 

The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed that he could have. After all, he was fairly high up in the Centre. And he hadn't pushed her about identifying the father of her baby. 

That wasn't at all like daddy. He didn't rest until he had what he wanted. Even if concern over her condition had kept him from pushing her for answers, he would have pushed somewhere. And somewhere, he would have found out the truth. 

If, by some chance he hadn't known that Jarod was the father, he still knew about her. He knew about her red file, about her own potential as a pretender, unrealized, thanks to her mother's intervention. Since there seemed to be some sort of genetic factor involved, there was a good chance that her child would have that same potential. And if he had known that the baby's father was the most successful pretender the Centre had ever discovered? From the point of a sound businessman, it would be foolish to let such a potentially valuable asset out of his control. And Daddy was nothing if not a sound businessman. 

He would certainly never allow sentiment to interfere with what was best for the Centre. She frowned suddenly. 

Then why had he taken her to Europe for the summer? With the exception of his recent and still unexplained absence, she couldn't remember his ever taking more than one or two days off at a time. 

Even when… 

The image from the elevator flashed into her mind. 

Even when Mom died…was killed…he had only been able to stay away for a couple of days. She remembered sitting in the car next to him the day after the funeral. 'There's a lot of work to do, Angel, and a lot of people are depending on me. Your mother wouldn't want me to let them down. Besides, we want to show them that we Parkers are made of strong stuff. Life goes on.' 

But he had taken off several months to travel with his teen-aged daughter when she had gotten herself knocked up. 

The more she thought about it, the less sense it made. Never before that time, nor since, had he ever been so attentive to her, so concerned with her welfare. She knew he loved her. She didn't doubt that. She also knew that he wasn't the type of person who easily showed emotion. When her mother was alive, she had filled the girl's life with love and laughter. The emptiness left by her loss had felt even bigger when met by her father's strict emotional control. Until that summer. 

Her father had been a rock for her then. He had held her when she cried and laughed with her when the baby kicked. They reminisced about her mother and how much they wished she could be there with them. He told her about mom's pregnancy, about feeling her moving inside her mother. He talked about coming home from a short but urgent business trip to find that she had arrived in his absence. He smiled, remembering the first time he had held her, falling in love with her the first time she looked at him with those beautiful blue eyes. Soon after their return, though, he had reverted to his old ways. 

At first, while she was still in the Centre medical facility, he had visited her often, holding her while she cried and listening as she asked the questions without answers. As her strength returned and she was allowed to return home, his patience and time seemed to lessen. 

He finally sent her to Switzerland to 'get your focus back'. That was when she had built up her walls, determined never to let anyone get to close to her again. Those who she loved had failed her or left her…her mother…Jarod …daddy…even her own baby. No one would ever hurt her like that again. Daddy had the right idea. He kept everyone at arm's length and kept them living in fear of him. She was his daughter and could learn to do the same. And she did so, with excellent results. 

But she hadn't realized how much it would hurt. 

Angrily, she wiped tears from her face and headed for the bathroom. She downed something for her headache, something else for her ulcer and splashed some cold water on her face. 

The face in the mirror reminded her of another time… 

A bathroom at the Centre. 

Her eyes, red and puffy, her face pale. 

Wishing that she could die right there. 

She had a headache from all the tears she had shed in the privacy of the stairwell, and she had just finished throwing up again. The morning sickness was bad enough, but Jarod's reaction had made her feel even worse. Alice, one of her best friends at school had warned her. "A guy is only after one thing. Once you let him get you in bed, he won't want anything else to do with you." 

She should have realized it was true when he didn't come to get her like he said. But, like a fool, she had come back, looking for him. He had made it perfectly clear that he had more important things to do. 

Again, something nagged at the corner of her mind. 

Heading towards the kitchen in search of something to drink, she caught sight of a pile of papers she had brought home. Files, about Jarod and about the people he had helped. Total strangers that he had reached out to. She thought aboout a box, hidden away in her room, a box full of letters and photos and DSA's about her mother. All courtesy of Jarod. 

Because he thought she should know the truth. 

As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, Jarod didn't deliberately hurt people simply for the sake of hurting them. She might consider him the source of much of her pain, but the truth was, most of it was due to the betrayal of others. Jarod just revealed it to her. And taught her a lot about truth in the process. Time and again, he had done things, told her things to indicate that he cared about her. She had dismissed every one of them, because of his actions on that one day. What had he really said? 

'I'm very busy and really don't have the time to talk right now.' 

He had snapped at her, but then she had been known to snap at people, too. 

Looking back on the incident from an adult point of view, he really hadn't been that horrible. It was just the way her youth and hormones had interpreted it. And she had never given him another chance. 

Not that he had ever tried to explain. 

Now that she thought about it, that was pretty strange in itself. 

Jarod had been pushing her so hard to face her feelings, to talk about things. Why would he avoid ever even mentioning that aspect of their relationship? She had never felt as close to anyone as she had felt to him in those few short weeks, and instinct told her it had been the same for him. How could he pretend like it had never happened? 

It wasn't like him. It went against everything she knew about his character. 

She looked up at the clock and was surprised to see that it was well after midnight. After all that time, she still had nothing. No answers. 

Only more questions. 

And loose threads. 

Lots of loose threads. 

And first thing tomorrow, she was going to start pulling them. 

The end? 

Look for part III coming soon to a fanfic site near you! 


	3. Default Chapter Title

I don't own the Pretender or any of its characters. I didn't even rent them, just borrowed them without even asking. I'm not doing this for profit, just for fun. This is part three of a series. It makes more sense if you've read parts one and two. Please, enjoy and let me know what you think. 

The Lies That Blind III: The First Pull By Donna 

She heard the screams first. She looked around and saw Catherine Parker on a table, giving birth. Just as she had seen on the video, Dr. Raines was at the foot of the table, awaiting the child's arrival. She shuddered again at the thought of Dr. Raines delivering her. After he had handed the first baby off to a nurse, he turned back to the woman on the table and told her there was a problem with the second child. She saw the pain in her mother's eyes and heard her anguished cry as she was told that the child had been stillborn. 

She called out to her mother. 

"He's lying, mom! He's not dead!" 

Her words had no affect. She tried to move to her mothers side, but found that her feet would not cooperate. She looked over at the nurses. 

"Tell her the truth! Tell her that Raines is lying to her!" 

Again, there was no response. 

She turned towards the door where Raines and the nurse carrying her brother had disappeared. This time, her feet moved and she followed them. 

When the door slammed shut behind her, there were no signs of them. In fact, there was no sign of anyone. The corridor was silent and black, the walls scorched from the heat of a horrific blaze. She turned around, but the room she had just left was in the same condition. 

She heard a soft sound and looked down. There, at her feet, was a basket. She knelt down and pulled back the soft pink blanket to find a small baby. 

Even though Parker had never seen her child, there was no doubt in her mind about the identity of the baby. 

"Catherine?" 

The little girl opened startlingly blue eyes and laughed in delight at the woman standing over her. 

She chose to interpret that as an affirmative. 

Gently, she lifted the small bundle and cradled her close. She was surprised at how natural it felt and how much she enjoyed the soft scent of baby powder. 

"This is no place for you, sweetheart. Don't you worry, though; Mama's going to get you out of here someplace safe and sound." 

She was delighted by an answering "coo" and a toothless smile. 

"Angel?" her father's voice called out, starling her out of the warm moment. 

He called again, sounding closer this time. 

She couldn't let him see the baby. She looked around frantically for some place to hide her. Over in the corner, she spied a cardboard box, somewhat scorched but still intact and with cover in place. She rushed over and opened it. It contained several files in red jackets. She pushed them aside and carefully laid the precious bundle next to them. 

"Please, sweetie, be very quiet. We can't let your grandfather see you." 

She replaced the lid, stood and turned just as her father came around the corner. 

"Ah! There you are, Angel. Didn't you hear me calling you?" 

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I was just looking at all the fire damage. It's amazing that anyone survived." 

"That doesn't concern you, Angel. There is something I need your help with." 

"Oh?" 

"The Centre wants me to provide them with…" 

He looked past her and noticed the box sitting in the corner. 

"Ah, yes…" He walked over and picked it up. "This will do nicely." 

She moved to intercept him, but he sidestepped her and handed the box to a figure standing in the shadows. 

"Daddy!" 

"You've got to trust me, Angel. I'm only doing what I think is best for you. You take care of me; I take care of you. Remember?" 

She strained to look past him, keeping a panicked eye on the box and it's precious cargo. 

"It's better this way." 

She looked back at the man gripping her arms to discover not her father, but Lyle now standing in front of her. 

"I mean, look at how well the Centre did with me, Sis." 

From around the corner, she heard a little girl's voice, calling for her mommy.She pushed him away and started running down the corridor after the shadow. She could hear her daughter crying just ahead, but couldn't seem to catch up to them. From an overhead speaker, another voice spoke up. 

Jarod's voice. 

"Don't bother. You'll never catch her. But that's all right. She's probably better off without you anyway. As slow as you've been to figure it out, you'd make a lousy mother for any child, much less a pretender." 

She kept running. 

His taunt continued. 

"You'd make a lousy mother." 

"Mommy, where are you?" 

"I'm coming!" 

"You'd make a lousy mother." 

"Mommy!" 

"Catherine!" 

She sat up in bed, her heart pounding and her body drenched in sweat. She took a deep breath and threw the covers back. 

It was only a dream. 

She had several hours before she was due at the Centre, but she knew she would never get back to sleep. Instead, she took a long shower and tried to relax. Today was the day she would put her plan in motion. After weeks of planning and working, today she would start tweaking some of the loose threads from her tangled past. Today, she would start making some people at the Centre very nervous. 

She looked at the black computer disk lying in the center of her coffee table. It looked nothing like the bomb that she hoped it would be. 

If she had done everything right. 

If she had covered her tracks as well as she thought. 

When the idea had first occurred to her, she discarded it. She knew that she didn't have the computer expertise to pull it off and she hesitated to ask Broots to share the risk. She did, though, ask him a few "hypothetical" questions. When he offered to help with whatever she was planning, she was strongly tempted to accept. In the end, though, she told him that this was something she had to do for herself. She did accept his offer of some basic tutoring and he seemed amazed at how quickly she picked it up. "You keep that up and I'll be out of a job before too long," he said, the worried expression on his face belying his joking tone. 

"Don't worry, Broots. I don't think I could stand living in your cyber geek world any better than you could handle reality. You can stay in your virtual world, I'll stay in the real one." 

He seemed to find that reassuring. 

Between his tutoring and some private research of her own, she had figured out how to carry out her plan. She had even run a couple of tests and the results had been all that she had hoped for. 

She was a little disturbed by how easy it seemed to be. Was it because she was doing something wrong or were her own abilities coming out? 

The idea was simple. 

Just ask the Centre mainframe for some information. She knew she wouldn't get any answers, but she hoped that the questions themselves would raise some flags. The hard part was doing it without anyone knowing that she was responsible. If she had done everything correctly, the little disc in front of her would download her questions where they would wait until a specified time. When the bomb went off, she would be nowhere near a terminal. 

This would work. 

It had to. 

She took a deep breath. There were other angles to this matter and she was determined to explore as many as she could. One of those angles was the trip to Europe with her father the summer Catherine was borrn. It was distinctly out of character for him. He didn't take vacations. He usually worked weekends and holidays. He constantly reminded her of what a busy man he was and how much responsibility he had. 

So how did he rationalize spending months in Europe with her? Had he known the truth about her child and hoped that a little time and attention from him would convince her to turn Catherine over to him and the Centre? 

She pulled out a box, filled with souvenirs from the trip. She flipped through the box idly, hoping that something would jump out at her. There were ticket stubs from various museums and theatres, postcards showing some of the historic sites they had visited, photos she had taken, and her journal. She picked up the journal and sighed, remembering the days when she had been naïve enough to write things down, believing in the concept of privacy. 

She remembered Sidney, presenting her with her first journal, shortly after her mother's death. 

"It often helps to sort out your feelings when you put them in writing." 

Many a long night had been spent pouring her innermost thoughts, hopes and fears onto the pages of her journal, until she had gotten too old and wise for such things. 

Or maybe she hadn't…not completely. 

Only a few short weeks ago, she had presented Debbie Broots with her very own journal and pen. 

Even her words had echoed Sydney's. 

"I know there's a lot going on in your life and it's not always easy to talk about, especially with your dad. Sometimes writing about them helps." 

She opened the book and started to read. She skimmed through it, stopping every few pages to read something. It was her journal, her handwriting, but it felt…wrong. She couldn't explain what…the descriptions were exactly as she remembered events…very factual. That was odd…she remembered putting a whole lot more emotion into her writing at that age. And one would think that the hormones of pregnancy would have made her even more so. 

She put the book down and stretched, catching a glimpse of the crystal replica of the Eiffel Tower that Debbie had brought her back from Paris. She smiled, thinking about how excited the girl had been showing off her pictures and talking about the trip. 

"This is me and dad standing in front of the Arc d'Triumph. You can't see much of it because it's so tall. This is us on the observation deck at the Eiffel Tower. He was so nervous. He kept telling me not to stand so close to the edge…like I was going to fall or something. This one is of us in front of the hotel we stayed in." 

Parker sat up suddenly. She looked through the pictures in her box again. 

There were pictures of hotels, museums, theatres, sidewalk cafes, beautiful landscapes, monumental castles…but no people that she knew. 

No photos of herself or of her father. 

No proof that they had actually been there. 

She picked up the passport and looked at it. It had all the appropriate dates and stamps and the photo on it was certainly her. But didn't doctors usually discourage travel, especially foreign travel, when you were pregnant? 

And the journal. She realized what bothered her about it. Everything was exactly as she remembered it. 

Exactly. 

On the rare occasions that she had read through some of her old journals, she had been amazed at how different her thoughts were now about the events she had written about years ago. Time had changed her perspective about so many things. So why was this trip so different? 

She felt like screaming. She was searching for answers and all she seemed to find were more questions. 

She looked over at the clock. 

It was time to finish dressing and head to the Centre. 

Time to make someone else feel like screaming. 

On her way in, she made a brief detour by the cemetery to visit her mother's grave. She knelt in front of the marble marker, tracing the name with her finger. "Mom? It's me. For the last eighteen years, I've thought of this marker as being for two Catherines. I've pictured the two of you in my mind, laughing and playing together like we used to do, you dancing while you hold her and she laughs. Now, I wonder. They lied about your son; did they lie about my daughter, too? Is she with you or is she locked away like her father was? I have to find the truth, Mom. I have to know what really happened, no matter what. Jarod says your voice is inside of me. I hope that's true. Help me find the truth." 

She kissed her fingers, then transferred the kiss to the stone. 

"I miss you, Mom." 

Miss Parker walked into the Centre that morning, attitude in firmly in place. No one would guess that there were elephants tap dancing in her stomach. Once in her office, it was a simple matter of inserting the little black disk into her computer and filing her usual morning reports. She hesitated a moment before hitting the send key. What she was doing could very well change her life forever. It might not be the greatest life, but it was what she knew. 

And it was a lie. 

She was so tired of lies. 

She took a deep breath and pressed the button. It was almost a let down when nothing happened. 

'Nothing's supposed to happen…at least not yet,' she reminded herself. 

She removed the disk from its slot. It should be harmless now, wiped clean once it had done its duty. But she wasn't going to take any unnecessary risks. In the drawer of an office cabinet waited a heavy-duty magnet she had brought in the day before. She smiled as she put the disk in the drawer, placing the magnet squarely on top of it. 

'Wouldn't want that to blow away now, would we?' 

Sidney and Broots looked up as Parker stalked into the tech room. "I suppose it would be too much to hope for that you've got something on Jarod?" 

Broots jumped slightly and turned to his computer. 

"Well, nothing definite…" 

"I need definite." 

"But there are a couple of pretty good possibilities…" 

"Broots, a kitten stuck up a tree or a little old lady standing on a street corner would be good possibilities. I don't need possibilities, I need good solid leads." 

"Um…" He frantically studied the monitor, hoping that he would suddenly notice something that hadn't been there a moment before. Anything… 

"Well?" She leaned closer. He tried to ignore the sheer power of her presence, but found himself only growing more nervous. Her perfume was a little overwhelming and made it even harder to think. 

"Broots!" She snapped her fingers in front of his face. 

"Um…no?" 

His response was more of a question itself. 

"No?" She turned his chair, forcing him to look her in the eye. "It was 'no' yesterday and 'no' the day before and 'no' the day before that. If that's what I wanted to hear, I could just put it on a tape and save you the trouble of coming in. I want results, Broots, and I want them now." 

"Parker," Sidney interrupted gently, just as Broots feared he would melt under her icy blue gaze. 

"You can't expect him to turn up information that isn't there." 

Broots sighed with relief as she turned her attention to the older man. 

"I can expect whatever I please. Apparently it's too much to expect competence!" 

"He's doing the best he can, Parker. The longer Jarod is out there, the more careful he's becoming about covering his tracks. It won't be long before we lose him completely…unless he wants us to find him." 

"Giving up, old man?" she asked with a raised brow. 

He smiled and snorted softly. "Of course not. I was just warning you." 

"Good. Once your lab rat is back in his maze, I get my life back and everyone will be just a little bit happier." 

"Except Jarod," Sidney added, softly. 

She decided to ignore his comment, and the pain in her heart. Does it really matter how Jarod feels? 

'Of course not,' her head replied. 'He's not like you. He belongs here.' 

Her heart answered, 'He's like you could have been…like your daughter may be…do either of you belong here?' 

'That's different.' 

'How is it different?' 

"It just is!" 

"'Just is' what?" Broots asked. 

She didn't realize she had spoken aloud. Wasn't that a sign of some sort of mental problem…talking to yourself out loud. Maybe she should ask Syd about it later. 

She noticed him looking at her, a questioning look on his face. 

Or maybe not. 

"It just is very difficult to face my father day after day with no progress to report. Especially when Lyle is standing there with that smug sneer on his face." 

She looked at her watch. 

"Which is what I have to do in about five minutes. I ought to make you tell him." 

A panicked expression suddenly covered Broots' face and Miss Parker had to fight the urge to either laugh out loud or check for a puddle on his chair. 

"But…But…But…" He choked and sputtered, trying to find the proper words to express his horror. 

"I couldn't…I mean…Mr. Parker…He'd kill me…What about Debbie?…You're his daughter…I think it would be better coming from you…I don't think he even knows who I am…" 

She interrupted his nervous chatter. "Don't worry, Broots, I won't send you into the lion's den." 

He let out a deep breath and smiled slightly. 

"At least, not yet," she couldn't resist adding. 

He paled again as she leaned close. 

"But if you don't have something solid for me when I get back…" 

She let the threat hang for a moment before turning to exit the room. 

Sidney followed close on her heels. 

"It's not nice, teasing Broots that way." 

"Who says I'm teasing?" 

"Someone who's known you for a very long time." 

She stopped and turned to face him. She looked deep into his eyes, almost afraid to see herself as he saw her. After a moment, she smiled. "Thanks, Syd." Her smile, like her mother's, always brought an answering smile from the doctor. 

"You're very welcome, Parker, and please remember…" 

"I know," she interrupted. She patted his shoulder and walked away. 

She stood outside the door to her father's office gathering her courage about her. She had always hated these meetings, having to admit her failure and seeing the disapproving look on his face. Today, though, there was something more. She realized she was angry. Angry at him for having so much power over her, angry at him for the way he had controlled so much of her life, angry for all the times he hadn't been there for her. 

And she was angry with herself for caring so much. 

In spite of everything he had done and everything she was beginning to suspect that he had done, she still craved his approval. 

She still wanted to see his face light up, hear him say "Well done, Angel. I'm very proud of you." 

She took a deep breath, knocked and entered. 

After several moments, Mr. Parker looked up from his desk. 

"Good morning, Angel." 

"Good morning, Dad. Lyle." 

"From the look on your face, I'd guess you don't have anything new on Jarod," Lyle ventured with one of his obviously fake sympathetic smiles. 

"Hey, maybe there is something to those 'twin telepathy' stories," she retorted sarcastically. 

"Careful what you say, Sis, or we could end up one of Sidney's projects," he answered back. 

"That's okay. If I were to be anyone's 'project' here at the Centre, I'd want it to be Sidney. He's one of the few people here who have earned my trust." 

"I'm not sure that's wise, Angel," her father informed her, concern on his face. "Remember, he was the last person to speak with your mother before her…" 

He stopped, searching for the right word. 

"Murder?" his daughter supplied. 

"Accident," he answered firmly. 

"Besides, the two of you are far too valuable to the Centre in other ways to waste you on Sidney's research." 

"You don't have any new leads on Jarod?" Lyle interrupted, turning the conversation back to its original topic. 

She took a seat and looked over at her father, completely ignoring the man standing next to him. 

"We have come up with several likely possibilities. At the moment, Sidney and Broots are researching those to come up with the most likely." 

"Good. Let me know when you've got him." 

Mr. Parker looked down at his desk, effectively dismissing her. 

Lyle flashed her a smile and leaned over his father's papers again. 

She spoke again. "Actually, Dad, there was something else I wanted to ask you about." 

He looked up curiously. 

"Remember the summer we spent vacationing in Europe?" 

He looked confused for a moment before his face cleared and he smiled. 

"Of course, Angel. How could I forget that?" 

There was a guarded expression on his face, as though the topic was not one he was very interested in discussing. 

She had to admit she also enjoyed the hurt expression that quickly crossed Lyle's face as he was reminded of something else he had missed out on. 

"Well, Broots and his daughter just returned from France and she was showing me all of her pictures, so I thought I'd show her some of the ones from when we were over there. It was a little odd, though. There weren't any pictures of us, just scenery and strangers. I thought you might have some other ones, some of the two of us." 

He looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. 

"Well, you weren't too big on having your picture taken right then, what with…" 

He paused and looked over at Lyle. 

"I know." She looked at Lyle also. "I had a bit of a weight problem." She looked back at her father. "But I know there must at least one photo of the two of us over there." 

"I don't know, Angel. You were pretty adamant, but I'll look and see what I can find. When I have the time." 

"Thanks, Dad." She rose. "I should probably get back now." 

At that moment, the phone on Mr. Parker's desk rang. He picked it up. Miss Parker waited to see what was going on. 

"What? When was this?" 

He paused and reached to open the computer on his desk, carefully positioning it where neither of his children could see the screen. 

"Yes, I see it. Where did that come from?" Another pause. "How can you not know? Isn't it you job to catch things like that?" 

He listened again. 

"Well, find out!" 

He hung up the phone and stared angrily at the screen. 

"Is something wrong, Daddy?" Miss Parker asked innocently. 

She started around the desk as if to see what was on the monitor. 

He quickly turned it off. 

"Nothing to concern you. Either of you. Someone's gotten into the computers." "That sounds like something Jarod would do." 

"No, this isn't Jarod's doing." 

"You can't be certain. It wouldn't be the first time he's tapped into the Centre system." She looked pointedly at Lyle's hand. "Maybe you should let Broots take a look at whatever's going on." 

"Absolutely not. You and your team need to concentrate your efforts on finding Jarod. We have specialists to fix things like this." 

The phone on his desk rang again. 

"What?" he barked at his secretary. 

"The Tower?" 

Everyone froze. 

"Yes, of course. Put them through." 

He paused and listened. 

"Yes, it has been brought to my attention." 

He listened again. 

"No, we don't know where it came from. Knowledge of that project has been kept to a minimum, and those who do know have been carefully checked out." 

Another pause. 

"Yes, the matter is being investigated thoroughly. Rest assured, we will find out where that came from." 

He hung up the phone and looked up at two curious faces. 

"Don't you both have work to do elsewhere?" 

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Lyle asked. 

"No, this is all being handled by people carefully trained to do so. Now, get back to your own work and let me get back to mine." 

His face softened slightly. "I'll see you both for dinner tonight." 

As they turned to leave, Lyle thought he detected something on his sister's face. A something that made him think that she knew what was going on. He would have to watch her even closer now. 

She knew he suspected something, but she really didn't care. She needed to know the truth, and nothing and no one would stand in her way. 

Returning to her office, she noticed more people than usual in the corridors, whispering softly among themselves as they drank coffee and stuffed their faces. In her private sanctuary, Broots and Sidney waited for her. 

"What's going on here?" Broots asked, his voice barely a whisper. 

"I don't know," she whispered back. "Why don't you tell me? Since you're not in your cage, I assume you have something for me." She settled in her chair. 

"They shut me down." 

"Shut you down? Who? The Internet decency patrol? I've told you to stay away from those kind of places." 

"No…what do you mean 'those kind of places'?" 

Sidney interrupted. "About five minutes after you left, a sweeper team came into the tech room and told everyone to leave immediately. They said that the system had been breached and everything was going to be shut down for the rest of the day so that it could be checked for problems." 

"They wouldn't even let me back up what I was working on," Broots added. 

"Interesting," Miss Parker murmured under her breath. 

"Well, since we won't be getting anything more done here today, you two might as well go on home." 

"Really?" asked Broots. 

"Go," she told him. "Take Debbie out of school and make a day of it. Talk to her and listen to her. Let her know she can trust you." 

"Thanks!" He turned to leave. "Are you sure it's okay?" 

She waved him off. 

"Great! There's this really great exhibit at the museum that she's been wanting to see. I was going to take her this weekend but I'm sure it will be much less crowded today. See you both tomorrow!" 

He practically ran out the door. 

She smiled and shook her head. 

'Broots may be a bit of a geek, but he is certainly a great father. Debbie would never have to wonder about him the way I wonder about mine.' 

She noticed Sidney looking at her. 

"What? Didn't you hear me? Take the rest of the day off. Go play with your lab rats or something." 

"Parker, what are you up to?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sid." 

"You've never been very good at fooling me, Parker. What are you up to?" 

She looked down at her lap. 

"Up to? I'm not up to anything, Sid." 

She noticed a thread hanging from the bottom of her skirt. 

"I'm just pulling on a few loose threads." 

That night, Parker's dream came again. She called out in her sleep. 

"Catherine?" 

In her stark room tucked away deep within the Centre, a young woman slept fitfully, dreaming of things she had never known. She turned her head in her sleep. 

"Momma?" 

In a hotel room half way across the country, Jarod sat staring at the five lines on his computer monitor. Three little data search queries that had sent up red flags in the Centre database. 

The first two frightened him a little. 

"PRETENDER PROJECT: GENERATION TWO" 

"PRETENDER BREEDING PROGRAM" 

The third one confused him. 

"CATHERINE FAITH PARKER 

BORN AUGUST 21, 1980 

BLUE COVE, DELAWARE" 

Jarod didn't like being frightened or confused. He needed to find some answers. 

The End…? 


	4. Default Chapter Title

The Pretender and it's characters still aren't mine...probably couldn't   
even afford a rent-to-own deal. I just use them a little bit from time   
to time, then return them none the worse for wear. This is, of course,   
the sequel to Lies I, II, and III and will make more sense if you've   
read them. Thanks for all the wonderful feedback on the previous parts   
and thanks for your patience waiting for this one. I hope it was worth   
the wait. Please let me know.  
  
Lies IV: The Next Generation  
By Donna  
  
  
Mr. Parker sighed heavily as he sat down at his desk. He reached to   
turn on the computer and hesitated. He wasn't sure he really wanted to   
see what their "rat" had been up to over night.  
  
Not that he seemed to limit himself to nights.  
  
His little "droppings" turned up in the system at all hours of the day   
and night.  
  
One day, it had been questions about Mr. Parker's vacation time in   
1980.  
  
Another day, it was about his passport.  
  
Someone seemed to know far too much and their technicians were having   
no luck discovering who was responsible.   
  
Far too much time and money was being lost due to the system having to   
be shut down to be cleaned each time their rat left one of his calling   
cards.   
  
At least, they had been doing it enough that they were getting   
faster...it only took a few hours instead of the whole day, but it was   
still far too long. Data was lost or misplaced every time it happened   
and people were not happy.  
  
Most importantly, the Triumvirate was not happy.  
  
Without realizing it, he held his breath as he activated his computer.  
  
No red flags.  
  
He breathed out.   
  
Not yet, anyway.  
  
He checked his messages and got on with the business of the day.  
  
  
Many levels below in the Centre's most secret area, Grace took a deep   
breath and looked across the table at her young charge.  
  
"Catherine, you know that lives are depending on you. Why won't you   
complete this simulation?"  
  
Catherine leaned back in her chair crossing her arms defiantly.  
  
'Sometimes she seems so much like any other teenager," Grace thought.  
  
"I can't."  
  
"Can't or won't."  
  
She shrugged.  
  
"What does it matter?"   
  
The girl suddenly leaned on the table.  
  
"Tell me about my parents."  
  
Grace sighed heavily.  
  
"Catherine, we've been through all this before. The past won't change,   
no matter how many times I tell you about it."  
  
"I know. I just want to hear it again. Please, Grace."  
  
Catherine's blue eyes sparkled with interest and the look on her face   
begged the older woman for the story.  
  
"If I do, will you complete the simulation?"  
  
"I will give it my best."  
  
Grace knew that this was as good as a promise.  
  
"Well, as you know, I didn't come to the Centre until about ten years   
ago, so all I know is what I've read in your files and what I've been   
told by others."  
  
The girl nodded, her face shining.  
  
"I know, but please, tell me anyway."  
  
  
  
Miss Parker stalked across the lobby of the Centre. She could feel the   
tension in the air, almost like lightening ready to strike. Everyone   
was busy typing away at their computers, stopping every few minutes to   
back up their work. It gave her a good feeling inside to know that she   
was the cause of all the problems.   
  
She wondered if this was the way Jarod felt when he ran a sting   
operation.   
  
This would almost be fun, if the stakes weren't so high.  
  
But they were.  
  
The truth...about her daughter.  
  
  
  
"Both of your parents worked here at the Centre. They were both   
special, like you, and were able to help many people through their   
abilities. They often worked together on the really difficult problems   
and somewhere along the way they fell in love. Everyone here at the   
Centre adored them both and when they got married, there was a big   
celebration. A couple of years later, you arrived, making their   
perfect life even better. Since your father was an orphan and your   
mother had only her father, who also worked here, the people here were   
their family and they used to bring you here with them to work. They   
knew from the beginning that you were special, too. When you were only   
a year or so old, there was a terrible fire at their house. Your   
father brought you out, left you with a neighbor and then went back to   
get your mother. Neither of them made it out."  
  
"They put my life before their own?"  
  
"Of course they did. They loved you very much."  
  
Catherine nodded at her to continue.  
  
"Your grandfather brought you here because, even though you were so   
young, you were severely traumatized by the situation. You've always   
been fine when you were here, but when he would try to take you out,   
you panicked. A couple of years later, your grandfather passed away   
and there was no place else for you to go. You've been here ever   
since."  
  
"But why can't I leave now?"  
  
"Catherine, we've been through this. You just wouldn't be able to live   
out there. You have a special gift and there are people who would want   
to use it for their own ends, who would want to prevent you from   
helping us, even if it meant killing you."  
  
"Like they did my parents."  
  
"Like they did your parents. You're here for your own safety,   
Catherine. You should be glad for the Centre's protection."  
  
"I know, and I am...I just wonder sometimes..."  
  
Grace smiled at the young woman.   
  
"I know you do, but you know you can trust me."  
  
  
  
"It's like they don't trust us," Broots was complaining as she entered   
the tech room.   
  
"I wouldn't trust you with replacing the toilet paper in my bathroom,   
Broots. What are you talking about?"  
  
He was becoming accustomed to letting her insults roll right off.  
  
"With the truth about whatever is going on with the computer system   
here. It's next to impossible to get anything done when you have no   
idea when they're going to shut the system down. You have to stop   
about every ten minutes to run a backup on what you're working on.   
They keep telling us that it's just routine maintenance, but it's just   
happening way too often for that."  
  
"What do you think it is, Broots?"  
  
He looked around quickly and then motioned to them to come closer.  
  
  
  
In the silence that followed, Grace wondered how much of the story was   
true. It was what she had been told when she was put in charge of the   
young pretender, and she knew better than to ask any questions.  
  
It seemed just a little bit too convenient, though.  
  
"Grace, do you know what they looked like?"  
  
"No, Catherine, like I said, this was long before I came to work at the   
Centre."  
  
"And there are no photos of them?"  
  
"No, dear. Everything was destroyed in the fire."  
  
"I just wonder what they looked like. Do I have his nose, her eyes?   
Why am I so tall? Who do I look more like?"  
  
"From what I've been told, you look a lot like both of them."  
  
"Please, keep checking for a picture. I'd just like to have something   
of them."  
  
Grace smiled, wondering which of her parents was responsible for the   
stubborn streak in the young woman.   
  
"If I promise, will you finish this sim now?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
As the girl turned her attention back to the papers on the table, her   
thoughts were in turmoil. The more often she heard the story, the less   
she believed it. It had never felt quite right, even when Grace's   
predecessor, Stephanie, had told her. And after the events of the last   
few days, she doubted it even more.   
  
  
  
"Somebody's trying to steal files," Broots whispered.  
  
"Jarod?" Parker asked, even though she knew better.  
  
"Maybe, but I don't think so. Most hackers have a certain...style...a   
certain way of doing things that you learn to recognize. I've gone up   
against him a few times and I think I've kind of learned to recognize   
his particular style. Something just tells me that this is someone   
different."  
  
"Wait a minute, Broots. If they shut down the system every time   
there's a problem, how do you know about this hacker?"  
  
If possible, his voice dropped even lower.   
  
"Because they have a backup system that they don't shut down. It's   
very limited...the triumvirate and a few other people in the Tower stay   
up when everyone else goes down. I stumbled across it by accident the   
other day when I was trying to set up a new tripwire program for Jarod.   
While the main system is down, they're shifting files like crazy."  
  
"Shifting them where?"  
  
"Some secured area off of the mainframe. The scary part is that the   
people that they have working on it don't seem to remember."  
  
"What do you mean?" Sidney asked.  
  
"I know this guy, Jasper, he's a troubleshooter. One of the best I've   
ever known. Every time this happens, he gets a call down to the main   
data center. At first I thought he was just being discreet when he   
wouldn't tell me what was going on, but I think there's more to it than   
that. A couple of days ago, I saw him and three other guys heading   
into the medical labs right after one of the breakdowns. When I saw   
him later on in the day, he seemed kind of out of it...like he had been   
drugged or something..."  
  
"Did he seem depressed or irritable?" Sidney asked.  
  
"Now that you mention it, yeah, he did. Jasper is one of those people   
who is so into his computer stuff that he really doesn't relate well to   
the real world."  
  
"Takes one to know one," Parker muttered under her breath.   
  
"No, he's even worse than I am," Broots assured her.  
  
"Anyway, I went into his area to ask him about something and he was   
just sitting there, gazing at the wall. His computer wasn't even   
turned on!"  
  
"Sounds serious," Parker deadpanned.  
  
"For him, that is pretty serious. I didn't even think his had an off   
switch!"  
  
Parker realized that Sidney was being very quiet. She looked over at   
him.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Well, what?"  
  
"I assume this all means something in particular to you?"  
  
"I was just thinking..."  
  
His voice trailed off as he stared into the distance.   
  
"Spit it out, Sid."  
  
"TD-994."  
  
"Which is?" She made no attempt to mask her impatience.  
  
"A mind control treatment that the Centre has been experimenting with   
for a number of years. It's actually a drug that makes the brain very   
open to suggestion. When used in tandem with a skilled hypnotist, they   
have had very good results in making people forget certain things."  
  
"Or remember things which never happened," Parker added, another piece   
of the puzzle falling into place.   
  
"Exactly."  
  
Broots looked over at Parker.  
  
"Like when we found Fennigor after the explosion and he couldn't   
remember anything that he had talked about before."  
  
"Unfortunately, there are certain side effects, such as depression and   
increased irritability which seem to become worse with each subsequent   
use of the therapy. In the tests that I know of, they had three   
suicides after the fifth use of the treatment."  
"And this has been going on for over a week now..."   
  
  
  
A week or so ago, she had noticed a shift in the mood of the Centre.   
At first, Grace had tried to tell her that she was imagining it, but   
she had finally broken down and admitted that they were having some   
major problems with the computer system.  
  
She had finished her sim for that day and returned to her room. Late   
that evening, she had heard a very slight noise coming from the   
ventilation grate behind her bed. Looking in, she had been surprised   
to see someone staring back at her. The man's eyes had widened in   
shock before he quickly turned around and scurried away.   
  
The next night, he was back. He watched her as she carefully   
positioned herself to shield the grate from the cameras.  
  
"Hi!"  
  
He smiled at her.  
  
"My name is Catherine. What's yours?"  
  
He paused for a moment as if in thought.  
  
"Angelo."  
  
"Nice to meet you, Angelo."  
  
She stuck a finger through the grate, the closest she could come to a   
handshake.  
  
After a second, he touched his finger to hers.  
  
"Do you need some help or are you hiding in there?"  
  
He shook his head.  
  
"Secret."  
  
"What's a secret? You're not supposed to be in there, are you?"  
  
He hung his head slightly, like a little boy caught in forbidden   
territory.  
  
"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."  
  
She was rewarded with a smile.  
  
"Oh! Treat!"  
  
He took a box out of his shirt pocket and pulled a small, brownish ball   
out of it. He pushed it carefully through the grill.  
  
Catherine accepted it and studied it carefully. It looked like a   
white, foam type object that had been coated with a sweet smelling   
brown goo.   
  
She looked back at Angelo.  
  
He took another one out of the box and popped it in his own mouth.  
  
"Tasty!"  
  
Well, it didn't seem to hurt him any. She slowly raised the object to   
her mouth and put it in. As the carmel sweetness spread across her   
tastebuds, a smile spread across her face.  
  
"Very tasty, Angelo. What is it?"  
  
He held up the box so she could read it.  
  
"With a secret toy surprise? Why would they put a surprise in a box of   
food?"  
  
Angelo just shrugged and smiled. For the next few minutes, the two sat   
on opposite sides of the grate in silence as they emptied the entire   
box.   
  
He tucked the box back in his pocket and looked at her, regret on his   
face.  
  
"Have to go now, Catherine."  
  
"Thank you for coming, Angelo, and for sharing your Cracker Jacks with   
me. Will you come back?"  
  
She knew she sounded desperate, but she felt a little desperate at the   
moment. This was the first time she could ever remember spending time   
with someone who didn't want something from her.  
  
"Angelo will come back, secret Catherine."  
  
He smiled at her again and turned around, quickly disappearing from   
view.  
  
She didn't see him again for a couple of days. Late one night, she   
heard his soft call from behind the wall.  
  
"Angelo!" she whispered. "I've been worried! Is everything alright?"  
  
He sighed heavily. "Too many eyes and ears sometimes."  
  
"I know. It seems like they're everywhere! Is it safe now?"  
  
"Yes," he cocked his head for a moment, as if listening for something.   
"For a minute. Surprise for Catherine."  
  
He carefully rolled up a small piece of paper and pushed it through the   
square in the grate. She unrolled it to discover a page from a desk   
calendar. It had been scribbled through with a black marker, violently   
torn from the calendar and crumpled into a ball. She could just barely   
make out the date.  
  
August 21.  
  
She looked at Angelo, a question in her eyes.  
  
"Hurt."  
  
She gently touched the page again.  
  
Yes, she could sense pain...a hurt that threatened to overwhelm her.  
  
Angelo pushed another rolled paper through to her. When she unrolled   
it, her eyes went wide with shock.   
  
It was a photo.  
  
A photo of herself.  
  
But different...  
  
And outside...  
  
And she had never dressed like that.  
  
But the hair and the eyes...  
  
Especially the eyes...  
  
The same eyes that looked back from her mirror every morning.  
  
She touched the face, almost reverently.  
  
"Momma?"  
  
She looked up at Angelo.  
  
He smiled sadly.  
  
"Hurt."  
  
"But she's dead...isn't she?"  
  
He struggled to find the phrase he wanted.  
  
"Her voice...is inside you."  
  
She glanced down at the photo again. When she looked up, he had   
disappeared.  
  
She had kept the photo and the calendar page on her ever since.   
  
At night, she would pull the covers over her head and carefully unroll   
them. Even though she couldn't see them well in the darkness, she felt   
better just touching them.   
  
They helped her to feel somehow connected.   
  
Her mother.  
  
Alive.  
  
And out there.  
  
Angelo said that she hurt. Was it because she missed her daughter?  
  
Was she looking for her?   
  
A touch on her hand brought her back to the present. She looked over   
at Grace's concerned face.  
  
"Are you alright, Catherine? You looked like you were a million miles   
away there."  
  
"Just thinking about what my life would be like if my parents were   
still alive."  
  
Grace looked at her sternly.   
  
"You were supposed to be concentrating on the sim."  
  
"Oh, I finished that." Catherine handed her back the papers and   
carefully explained her conclusions.  
  
Grace nodded as she wrote. When Catherine was finished, the older   
woman turned and handed her notes to a figure standing in the shadows.   
At that instant, the lights dimmed slightly and the figure in the   
shadows cursed.  
  
'Wonderful,' thought Grace. 'A new word for Catherine's vocabulary.'  
  
  
  
Miss Parker sat curled up in her office chair, staring out the window.  
  
In her hand was a photo.  
  
A photo of her and her father in Paris the summer that Catherine had   
been born.   
  
It showed the two of them sitting in a sidewalk café, the Eiffel Tower   
visible in the background. A yellow sticky note was attached to it.  
"Here's the photo you wanted...me and my Angel in the City of Lights!"  
It meant nothing.  
  
She had little doubt that Broots could have come up with the same photo   
in just a few minutes on his computer. In these days of digital photos   
and computer scanners, a photo proved nothing.  
  
She was much more interested in her conversation with Sidney this   
morning.   
  
TD-994.  
  
It could make a person forget what had happened.  
  
Or remember things that never had.  
  
Like a trip to Europe.  
  
This could be tomorrow's little computer glitch.  
  
Almost on cue, the computer on her desk suddenly beeped and went blank.   
She smiled slightly.  
  
If Broots had seen that smile, he probably would have left a puddle in   
the floor.  
  
  
  
In his office, Mr. Parker heard the same beep. He closed his eyes for   
a moment, not wanting to know what he knew had just happened. The   
ringing of the phone abolished any hope that he was mistaken. As he   
answered it, he looked over at the monitor where the telltale red light   
blinked in the top corner. His was one of the systems hooked up to   
stay on when power was cut. He reached over and typed in a password   
and the screen came back up.  
  
"Parker here," he said into the phone.  
  
"Yes, I'm looking at it now. We haven't had any luck on any of the   
traces we've tried to run so far."  
  
In the center of the screen blinked a request for his daughter's   
medical records for 1980. He shook his head slightly, furious at the   
audacity of this particular hacker.   
  
"Apparently, someone is getting into the central system and leaving   
these messages to be activated randomly. So far, we haven't a clue as   
to who, when or how."  
  
He listened a moment longer.  
  
"I'll take care of it."  
  
He hung up and sighed.  
  
  
  
Catherine was hustled into Grace's office.   
  
"Wait here. Someone will be here to take you back to your room in a   
little while."  
  
"What am I supposed to do in here?" the teenager asked.  
  
Grace indicated the packed bookshelves.  
  
"Find something to read. I have to check on a couple of other   
patients."  
  
She heard the door close and lock.  
  
With a heavy sigh, she plopped down in the desk chair.  
  
"Couldn't even take me back to my room where I might at least get to   
see Angelo."  
  
She idly checked all the desk drawers.  
  
Locked, of course.   
  
A quick scan of the bookshelves revealed nothing that she hadn't read   
before and certainly nothing that interested her enough to read again.   
While she considered picking the lock on the door (never done it, but   
how hard could it be?), her eyes came to rest on the blank computer   
screen on the desk.  
  
A slow smile spread across her face.  
  
Computer problems, huh...  
  
Maybe she could find out what was going on.  
  
At the very least, it would give her something to do.  
  
And maybe...just maybe...she could find out something about her past in   
the process...something about her parents...about the woman who wasn't   
dead.   
  
  
  
A very much alive Miss Parker sat in the darkness of her office.  
  
'Patience, Parker, Patience.'  
  
It had never been one of her strengths, but this time the reward would   
be well worth the struggle to achieve it.  
  
If all had worked as she planned, each file that was moved into the   
secured area of the database had been copied and sent to her own secret   
hiding place. Once she had all the data she needed, all that was left   
would be to retrieve it.  
  
That would be the hard part.   
  
She had tried a couple of days ago, just to make sure that it was   
working like it was supposed to. She had almost gotten caught.   
Someone else was able to track her for a while. Still, she had managed   
to bring one document out with her. She closed her eyes and conjured   
it up in her mind.  
  
  
  
Memo: Pretender Project-Phase II  
  
Attempts to create a new prodigy subject using artificial insemination   
have failed. It appears that the gene does not survive the freezing   
process. The next step in the creation of the product will be an   
attempt at conception in the normal method, i.e. male/female   
intercourse.   
  
The subjects have been chosen for this next step.   
  
The male is a proven commodity, kept in a controlled environment for   
some fifteen years. Female subject carries the necessary genetic   
trait, but due to outside interference, was not properly trained. As a   
result, her efficacy cannot be verified, though testing has shown great   
promise even at this late a date. Subjects have been allowed to become   
acquainted over the past several years in anticipation of this   
possibility and there does seem to be a degree of physical attraction   
between them. This leads us to the conclusion that this breeding   
project can be accomplished with minimal intervention.   
  
Both subjects have undergone complete physical evaluations and have   
been deemed to be in excellent physical health.  
  
At this time, it is suggested that the female subject be treated with   
fertility drugs to increase the chances of conception during the   
December target date. At that time, subjects should be allowed time   
alone together to follow their natural instincts.  
  
Should conception not occur at that time, a second attempt will be made   
the following spring. If there is no success as that time, more   
aggressive measures will need to be taken.  
  
  
Dr. Brighton Finley  
  
  
The most chilling part of the memo, though, was at the bottom.  
A handwritten word "Proceed" followed by her father's signature.  
  
  
  
Angelo watched through the vent as Catherine sat typing on Grace's   
computer. It had only taken her a few minutes to link up to the active   
system.   
  
'Not much security. Now let's see if we can find out what's causing   
all their problems.'  
  
After only a few more minutes, she stumbled across the first of he   
mother's red flags.   
  
"Pretender Breeding Project" and "Pretender Project: Phase II" raised   
her curiosity, but meant little to her. The third part, though,   
brought her up short.  
  
"Catherine Faith Parker  
Born August 21, 1980  
Blue Cove, Delaware"  
  
Catherine...her name...and the same date as the one on the calendar   
page Angelo had given her.  
  
Were they connected?  
  
A noise caused her to look to the vent, into his eyes.  
  
"Catherine Faith Parker. Is that my name, Angelo?"  
  
He nodded slowly.  
  
"Parker."  
  
She quickly pulled the photo he had given her out of her shirt.  
  
"Is her name Parker?"  
  
He smiled and nodded.  
  
"Daughter...is looking...for daughter."  
  
He suddenly looked up, past her.  
  
"Coming now. Have Faith."  
  
He turned and disappeared into the darkness again.  
  
Catherine quickly hid the photo away and turned the computer off,   
grabbing a book and falling into the chair just as the door opened.  
A young guard poked his head in the door.  
  
"Ready to go back to your room, Miss."  
  
"It's about time! I was about to die of boredom here!"  
  
She got up and stalked past him.  
  
In the vent, Angelo smiled.  
  
Like mother, like daughter.  
  
  
In her bed that night, Catherine ran her hand over the photo.   
"I'm going to find you, Momma. Please, don't give up on me."  
  
  
In her own bed, Parker prayed, almost in answer.   
"I'm coming, Catherine. Momma's coming."  
  
The end...of this part...  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
As you can probably tell, I really know very little about computers. I   
can turn one on, type a story, and I think I've just about got this e-  
mail thing down, but that's just about my limit. I don't know whether   
this kind of stuff can be done or not, (same with the drug/hypnosis   
bit) but I figure if it can be done anywhere, the Centre would be the   
place for it to happen.  
Please, let me know what you think of the story.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Default Chapter Title

This is part five of a series. It is, oddly enough, a sequel to parts one through four and will make very little sense unless you have read those parts. Sorry it has taken so long and thanks to all those who have let me know they're still interested in this story. As has always been the case, "The Pretender" and its characters are not mine. I've simply borrowed them for my own nefarious purposes and am not profiting from this endeavor...unless you count personal satisfaction. I hope it was worth the wait.   
  
Lies V: A Father's Lies  
  
He glanced quickly around the room to be sure he was alone. It was a habit he had learned long ago in the interest of survival. Assured that there was no one else physically present anyway, he allowed his face to soften slightly as he looked at the photo on his desk.   
  
'Oh, Catherine.'  
  
Today was their anniversary...  
  
Would have been their anniversary...  
  
He remembered the first time he had seen her.   
  
A board meeting like any other...until she walked in.  
  
"Everyone, this is Catherine Jameson. She will be heading up our newly created   
public relations department."  
  
Warning bells had gone off in his head. The Centre did not create new departments without a reason. They had never cared about the public perception of what they did. Why the sudden change? Maybe it was real, but he had a bad feeling that it had something to do with this lovely young woman.  
  
When she smiled at him, the warnings stopped. In fact, all sound ceased. It was only when someone sitting next to him actually leaned over and shook him that he realized he had been spoken to. After a few embarrassing moments, he gathered himself and was able to finish the meeting...but only by carefully avoiding looking in her direction.  
  
He cursed silently. If only he had been able to control himself in that single   
moment, perhaps he could have save them all a lifetime of lies.   
  
She was special, they had explained to him. She carried an unusual gene that they were currently investigating. It was most commonly found in geniuses...and in the emotionally disturbed. They wanted to observe her, to record her reactions in different situations over time.   
  
He was to court her, woo her, do whatever it took to keep her within the orbit of the Centre observers. Of course, she was not an ideal test subject, having been on her own for so long, but should she have any children...  
  
He heard a soft knock and looked up as the door opened on the subject of his   
thoughts.  
  
  
*****  
Below  
  
Angelo wasn't surprised to find Catherine waiting for him at the air vent.   
Somehow, she always seemed to know when he was coming.  
  
"Hello, Angelo. Is it safe to talk?"  
  
"Safe...for now."  
  
Someday she would have to ask him how he always seemed to know when Centre   
surveillance equipment was down.  
  
"How is she? My mother?"  
  
The smile with which Angelo had greeted her quickly disappeared.  
  
"Sad. Angry."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Daddy's lies."  
  
"My daddy lied to her?"  
  
"No," Angelo responded with a furious shake of his head. "Jarod hates lies. Too many lies. Daughter's daddy lies."  
  
By now, Catherine had figured out that 'daughter' referred to her own mother, the Miss Parker of her photo.  
  
"So I would venture a guess that he's not dead either."  
  
"No." Angelo paused. "Not yet, anyway."  
  
  
*****  
Mr. Parker's office  
  
He was stunned for only a moment before realizing that it wasn't his late wife that confronted him from the doorway, but her daughter.  
  
"Daddy? Are you alright? You looked a million miles away," she commented,   
coming around the desk to stand next to him. The concern on her face faded as she noted the photo that had held his attention.  
  
"You still miss her, don't you?"  
  
"Of course I miss her. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. Her, and you kids, of course."   
  
He smiled up at her before changing the subject.  
  
"Something on your mind, Angel?"  
  
"Just wondering if you were free for dinner?"  
  
"I am, but you're not. I just got a call that Jarod has been spotted out near our New Mexico research facility. The private jet is being readied for you and your team even as we speak."  
  
*****  
Below  
  
"Jarod?"  
  
Catherine had latched on to the name. "Is that my father's name? Jarod?"  
  
Angelo had to pause a moment. Finally he smiled and nodded.  
  
"Jarod is Catherine's daddy."  
  
"What's he like? Is he looking for me, too?"  
  
"Jarod doesn't know."  
  
"She didn't tell him?"  
  
"Couldn't."  
  
"Because of the lies?"  
  
Angelo nodded sadly.  
  
"They had me do a sim once...a man whose daughter had been kidnapped. He was   
very wealthy and powerful and they wanted to know how far he would be willing to   
go to get her back. He would have done anything for her. I wonder if Jarod...if my father is like that."  
  
As she thought in silence, Angelo wondered about the man whose cooperation with   
the Centre had been bought with his child's life.  
  
*****  
  
Miss Parker sighed heavily.  
  
"It would be so much easier..."  
  
"What would be easier?"  
  
"Catching Jarod. It would be so much easier if we had something to lure him back with. Something that he couldn't get anywhere else."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"I don't know. Family, maybe...a child?"  
  
Had she not been prepared for it, she probably would not have noticed the sudden   
tension in the room or her father's sudden intake of breath.  
  
She turned to look at him, a dazzling smile on her face.  
  
"I mean, you'd do just about anything for me, wouldn't you?"  
  
His pause was just a second longer than she liked.  
  
"Of course I would. You or your brother."  
  
'He would have to throw Lyle in there, too,' she thought. Instead of voicing that thought, she allowed a sadness to creep in to her expression.  
  
"I like to think that I would have done anything for...her...if only I'd had the   
opportunity."  
  
There.  
  
It was only a moment...maybe a fraction of a moment, but it was there.  
  
That slight, suspicious tightening of his face as his eyes narrowed and his mouth drew in. He was thinking...wondering...  
  
"I'm sure you would have, Angel." He cleared his throat and returned to the   
original subject. "Besides, we couldn't take a risk like that with a Gen2   
Pretender...assuming one existed. Jarod has been in and out of here several times, and we cannot afford to offer him a lure that we couldn't lose."  
  
"Besides," Miss Parker added, "If we had an offspring of Jarod's, we wouldn't need him anymore, would we? Especially since he's become...tainted by his time on the outside. Would it really do us any good to bring him back?"  
  
"That's not your concern, Angel. You just bring him back where he belongs and   
leave the rest of it up to us."  
  
He smiled and patted her hand.   
  
"Let me know when you get back from New Mexico...with Jarod."  
  
He bent back to his work, not looking up again until he heard the door click shut.  
  
'I'm doing the right thing, Catherine. It was the only choice I had.'  
  
*****  
  
'Assuming one existed, my cute little ass!' Parker thought as she stalked towards her office. She glanced at her watch. Just enough time to leave another little message for daddy before gathering her posse and heading off on another wild goose chase. Just as she bent to slide in the floppy, carefully prepared the night before, her phone shrilled loudly.  
  
*****  
Below  
  
"Tell me about Jarod, Angelo. Is he still alive, too?"  
  
"Alive and free!" Angelo assured her with a smile.  
  
"Free? You mean they let him go?"  
  
A snort of laughter greeted her question.  
  
"Couldn't stop him."  
  
"He escaped! Do you know where he went?"  
  
"Searching for Jarod...for family...helping people."  
  
"But wasn't he helping people here at the Centre?" she asked in confusion.  
  
"Used to. Sometimes. A long time ago. When mom was still here."  
  
"Jarod's mom?"  
  
"Daughter's mom. Catherine...like daughter's daughter."  
  
"I'm named after my grandmother," she exclaimed with a delighted smile.   
  
"Always bad things. Taking the children. Took Jarod and Kyle from family. But   
some good, too. Later, more bad things. Catherine tried to save the children."  
  
"Did she?"  
  
"Couldn't save Jarod or Timmy or daughter."  
  
"Why not? What happened to her?"  
  
"Man in black stopped her." He made his hand into the gun shape that children   
have employed for centuries. Even with her lifetime isolation, Catherine understood his meaning.  
  
"The Centre had her killed?" Catherine asked, shock evident in every aspect of her.  
  
Angelo froze and cocked his head, listening to a sound only he could hear.  
  
"Time to go."  
  
She knew not to delay him with any more questions. If they were caught, she would never find out the truth.  
  
"Bye, Angelo. Watch out for my mother."  
  
*****  
  
Children had never been a part of the plan...not his plans, anyway. He had never really understood them or even especially liked them. Catherine had wanted children, but had decided not to have any, due to her periodic bouts of depression. Having grown up with a mother who suffered from it, she had sworn never to put a child of her own through that.   
  
The Centre, though, wanted her to reproduce. They had plans for her child. If one was not produced soon, they would have to take more drastic measures.   
Reluctantly, he agreed to help. He switched her birth control pills for a low level fertility drug. In spite of his deception, she still did not conceive and he had begun to hope that normal biology might defeat the Centre.  
  
Unfortunately, her annual assignation up north had accomplished what he could   
not.   
  
Yes, he knew about Maine...about Ben.   
  
In an odd sort of way, he was happy that she had someone in her life who loved her first and foremost...something he could never do. In his life, the Centre must always come first. It was the only way to stay alive.   
  
When he had first approached her with the idea of turning the child over to the   
Centre, he had been shocked at her negative reaction. Surely she understood that the child would receive the very best, things that even they could never hope to give it while at the same time offering valuable insight to their medical scientists.  
  
But she was vehement. No child of hers would be used as a lab experiment.   
  
Fate, though, offered him a way out.  
  
Twins, they told him. Two little girls. They had even lied about that.  
  
He offered them a compromise. One child for them, one for Catherine. It was the perfect opportunity to verify the efficacy of Centre training methods. As long as he remained at the Centre, they would have access to the child raised in a normal environment, as well as the one raised in their strictly controlled one. Over the years, they could compare the two girls.  
  
To his surprise, they agreed.   
  
He did feel a tiny bit of guilt at his wife's grief over her lost child, but comforted himself with the fact that she did still have one child. If not for his intervention, the Centre probably would have taken them both.   
  
Over time, a strange thing happened. He found himself falling in love with the little girl. Even though he didn't really like children and even though this one wasn't really his, he discovered feelings within himself that no one, not even her mother, had ever aroused in him before.   
  
And that put her in danger.   
  
A casual comment following a boardroom disagreement.  
  
'It'd be a real shame if something was to happen to that sweet little girl of yours, Parker.'  
  
So the armor went on. Never show your emotions. Never let them know you care.   
Not only does it make you look weak, it puts those you love in danger.  
  
The hardest time was when Catherine died. He knew what she was planning.   
She had done so with his blessing. He wanted her and the girl gone...somewhere   
safe...even if he never saw them again. He had told her to make her plans and to go. The less he knew about them, the safer they would all be.   
  
If only she hadn't insisted on taking Jarod. He knew that it was this part of her plan that had gotten her killed. He had tried to talk her out of it...thought he had succeeded. Apparently not.   
  
When he was told about her death, his first instinct had been to grab the girl and make a run for it. Fortunately, his hard-learned caution had won. As difficult as it had been to watch her mourn alone, he reminded himself that it was for her own good. That which does not kill us will make us stronger.  
  
Only the strong survive. This was apparent nowhere more than at the Centre.   
Since the Centre would never let her go, he had to do his best to prepare her for it.   
  
*****  
Miss Parker's office  
  
"What?"  
  
"Catherine Faith Parker."  
  
She froze. Not Jarod. Not now.   
  
She swallowed hard and forced a note of confusion into her voice.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You tell me."  
  
"Catherine was my mother, Faith was my sister. You know that as well as I do,   
Jarod,' she reminded him.  
  
"But neither was born in Blue Cove and both were dead long before August 21,   
1980," he shot back.  
  
She remained silent.  
  
"What are you up to, Parker? Why all the games with the Centre computers?"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about. If you have questions about the computer systems, visit your local bookstore. They've got whole sections on computers. Or better yet, why don't you come in and ask Broots for help. We can set you up in a nice little room downstairs."  
  
"So which did you use? Broots or the books? I'm guessing it was the books,   
because you wouldn't want to risk getting him involved."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about, Jarod."  
  
It sounded weak, even to her own ears.  
  
"Tell me, Parker. I want to help."  
  
Suddenly, she was angry...very angry.  
  
"Help!? You want to help?! I've seen your idea of 'help'! Your little hints and innuendos...a word here, a photo there! Always dangling the carrot in front of me! You know who you dangle carrots for?! You dangle carrots for a jackass, Jarod!"  
  
"Parker, listen..." he tried to interrupt.  
  
"No, you listen, Jarod." Her voice was quiet and intense. "I may not be a genius like you, but I'm not an idiot either."  
  
"I know that, Parker..."  
  
"I know things aren't right here. I don't need your games, Jarod. This is far too serious a matter."  
  
He was silent for a moment as he thought about her accusations.  
  
"How can I help?"  
  
She breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Just stay our of it for now...Please..."  
  
She hated begging, especially from Jarod, but for Catherine...  
  
"You're playing a dangerous game, Parker."  
  
"I know...and the fewer people that know about it, the better my chances of   
success." She could almost hear him thinking, coming up with arguments.  
  
"I will ask for your help, Jarod, but there's so much to tell you first, and there's just not time right now. Everything is too confusing and it's all happening so fast..."  
  
"Parker..."  
  
She took a deep breath, prepared to do the hardest thing she had ever done.  
  
"Please, Jarod. If you ever felt anything for me...if you ever really cared...you have to trust me on this...let me do this my way..."  
  
*****  
Mr. Parker's office  
  
She had been away at boarding school when he was called before the Triumvirate.   
They needed her, they told him. The pretender project was going so well financially that they needed another pretender.   
  
He reminded them of the deal struck when she was born. They got one child, he got the other.   
  
That hadn't exactly worked out the way they had hoped it would, they told him.   
Besides, that was back then. Times and situations had changed.  
  
She's too old, he told them. Well past the target age for training a pretender.  
  
It would take time...probably several years, but the financial return on their   
investment would be well worth it.  
  
He couldn't tell them 'no'...not if he wanted to continue living...but he had   
promised Catherine that he would always protect her daughter.  
  
So he came up with an alternative. While she was a good candidate for the   
program, any child she produced would be even better, especially if they were able to choose the father. He knew about their work on a pretender breeding   
program...knew about their failure with artificial conception means.   
  
Once again, he found himself offering them a trade: a child for a child.  
  
Her child...and Jarod's child.  
  
Artificial intervention wouldn't be needed, just nature and biology and a little   
preparation on their part.   
  
After some discussion, they reached an agreement. They would use the girl for their breeding project. If she produced what they wanted, they would allow her to remain free.  
  
Somewhere deep inside, Mr. Parker knew that this agreement would not meet with   
Catherine's approval, but he didn't see that he had any other option. She would be free, he reminded himself, not locked into a life of simulations. She would be hurt, feel betrayed and angry, but she would remain free.   
  
She could be treated, they assured him...not brainwashed...that was such a nasty   
word...so that she would only remember what they wanted her to.   
  
Jarod's betrayal.  
  
Her father's love and support.  
  
Her child's death.  
  
It would be hard, but she was strong. He had made her that way. She would   
survive and come through the experience even stronger.  
  
Furthermore, it would offer her a degree of protection. Even if she didn't   
remember, she had provided the Centre with something very important to them,   
something that no one else could give them. Should they ever find cause to take   
action against her, that fact could well save her life...or his.  
  
Everyone won.  
  
Except the baby...and he tried not to think about her. Besides, she actually had it pretty good. She had clothing, nutritious meals every day, a roof over her head and a place to sleep. She had received the finest education possible from the finest minds the Centre had been able to round up. She would never fall prey to the evils others faced on the outside world: crime, drug abuse, teen aged pregnancy. She was safe from all that. She was actually a very fortunate young woman.  
  
Really, she was.  
  
*****  
  
Parker held her breath as she waited for Jarod's response.   
  
"This is really important to you?"  
  
"This is the most important thing I've ever done, Jarod."  
  
"All right. I'll stay out of it...for now. But I should warn you that the technical team they have working on your bombs is very close."  
  
"I know. They almost caught me the other day."  
  
"Actually," Jarod told her, "that was me."  
  
"You? Are you telling me that I actually beat you?"  
  
He started to deny it, to offer up some excuse, but the hint of delight in her voice stopped him short. She had so few things in her life that gave her pleasure. If thinking that she had outsmarted him would help...  
  
Who was he kidding? She had outsmarted him.  
  
"Well...maybe...sort of..."  
  
Her laugh and the image of her smile at that moment soothed the sting to his pride that this admission caused.   
  
"Too bad I can't tell Daddy."  
  
His heart ached at the wistful tone in her voice.  
  
"Parker, I cannot understand why his opinion is still so important to you after   
everything he's done."  
  
'And you don't even know the worst of it,' she thought.  
  
"But then I wouldn't know much about parent child relationships, would I?" he   
continued. "Seeing as how I haven't had one since I was taken."  
  
"I know, Jarod. I'm sorry. We will find them."  
  
Jarod was speechless. His statement had been reflexive...a part of the game they had been playing since his escape.  
  
"We?"  
  
"It's important to me, too, now. You'll understand when I explain. Until then, I need your promise that you won't interfere."  
  
"I promise."  
  
Then he whispered a name...the name of a little girl she had once been...and she   
trusted him.  
  
She hung up the phone with a smile on her face and pressed the button that would   
send one last little note to the Centre mainframe.  
  
*****  
  
Mr. Parker's office  
  
He reached out and gently touched her face in the photograph, longing for the feel of warm flesh rather than cool glass.  
  
'I've done my best, Catherine. You might not have agreed with my decisions, but I did what I felt was best for her. At least she's free.'  
  
On a security monitor, he watched her stride across the grounds to the hangar, a   
team of sweepers close on her heels.  
  
'She's still free.'  
  
*****  
  
Below, Catherine carefully unrolled the paper that Angelo had just pushed through the ventilation grate.   
  
It was another photo.  
  
A man.  
  
Dark hair, dark eyes, small mole underneath one.  
  
He looked kind, humorous, and inquisitive.  
  
"Jarod?" she asked.  
  
Angelo nodded. "Jarod," he confirmed, since she hadn't even taken her eyes off the picture to look up at him. She pulled out the other photo, the one of her mother, and lay the two side by side on the floor. She studied both intently with her eyes and her fingers, trying to learn about these two strangers who had given her life.  
  
"I miss them, Angelo. I've never met them, but I miss them."  
  
He nodded in understanding. "Soon, Catherine. Soon."  
  
She smiled, gently tracing her mother's face.  
  
"Soon," she agreed.  
  
  
  
The end of part V.  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
